Thaw
by GeekLoveFan
Summary: First NCIS fanfic. Gibbs interviews a young pediatrician as a witness in a case and finds himself intrigued by how she challenges him.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is my first NCIS fanfic. I am an established fanfic author for CSI, but never for NCIS. I will also note that I have never read an NCIS fanfic (*gasp*), so I'm unfamiliar with any conventions that are currently in place by those of you who are established NCIS authors. Please note that I am not interested in flames, so if you hate my story, that's fine-- please ignore it and move on. **** I will also never beg for reviews. I am a grown up with QUITE a full life; I write for my enjoyment alone. If you wish to review and actually have something constructive to say, it is appreciated; if not, that is your prerogative and that is also fine. I truly hope you enjoy my story, but please rest assured that I will never hold the story hostage to reviews.**

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs paused before knocking at the pediatrician's office door. It was just slightly open, and he glanced inside to size up his witness. Dr. Katherine Andrews was poring intently over a file, making notes here and there. Gibbs couldn't see her face as she studied her work, but the general impression he got from looking at her slender shoulders and the top of her dark red head was a sense of youthful attractiveness. He rapped twice on the door and received a distracted, "Come in," as the young pediatrician continued looking at the file.

As Gibbs stepped in, Katherine Andrews glanced up and did a double take as she took him in. Her surprise at seeing a man with a clearly displayed badge on his belt walk into her office, however, was quickly hidden and she flashed him a warm and genuine smile as she stood and extended her hand to him.

"Good afternoon. I'm Katherine Andrews. How can I help you?"

Gibbs took the proffered hand as he quickly glanced her over—dark blue eyes, a smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks, medium height, slender build, and nails that were well-manicured but not prissy. She looked entirely too young to have the letters M.D. behind her name.

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs with NCIS."

Katherine raised an eyebrow.

"Naval Criminal—"

"—Investigative Service," Katherine finished, smiling. "My dad was a Marine. What brings an NCIS agent to my office?" she asked, sitting back down.

She gestured for Gibbs to sit in one of the overstuffed chairs across from her desk. He complied. "Can I get you a cup of coffee?"

_A woman after my own heart_, thought Gibbs in amusement. Aloud, he said, "That would be great, thanks. I keep a lot of late nights."

"As do I. You learn in the first month of medical school that coffee is your best friend and that you won't survive without it," she laughed. Gibbs watched her with some interest as she rose and walked to a cherry side table that held a burr grinder, a French press, and a hot water dispenser. She opened a container, poured some whole beans into the grinder, and started them grinding. Gibbs found himself studying her long red hair, which was tied back at the base of her neck. It was thick and dark and twisted around in curls at the bottom. He jerked himself back to reality and said, "That's some setup you've got there."

She turned to him as the grinder wound down. She poured the grounds into the French press and added hot water. As she let it steep, she laughed again and said, "I'm something of a coffee connoisseur. Some people are wine snobs; I'm a coffee snob." She shrugged. "That'll be ready to pour in just a minute. Why don't you tell me what this is all about?"

Gibbs pulled a picture from the folder he was carrying. "Do you know a man named Duke Jackson?"

Katherine's eyes narrowed and her face and voice were wary as she said, "Yes…"

Gibbs waited.

"He's my best friend's brother-in-law."

Silence. Then, "Agent Gibbs…what's happened?"

A pause. "We found his body this morning in a hotel in Arlington." He watched her carefully as her eyes widened. Her eyes never left his as she closed the file in front of her.

"Oh, God…" she breathed. "What happened?"

"He was murdered. Tortured, actually…and then murdered."

Katherine looked dazed. "Tortured? How?"

Gibbs hesitated. "He was…beaten…and then castrated…and ultimately stabbed multiple times in the abdomen and left to bleed out."

Katherine looked down at her desk. She looked like she might be sick.

"Your name was in a note by the body."

Her head snapped up. "MY name?"

"Yes." Gibbs placed the picture on her desk.

Katherine stared at the 8 x 10 photograph showing a note that read, "This is what happens to men who molest children. Thank God for Katherine Andrews."

"Holy shit…." she whispered.

"Can you explain what the note means?"

Katherine swallowed. "Perhaps."

Gibbs waited.

"Dr. Andrews?"

"Please give me a moment, Agent Gibbs." Gibbs watched as Katherine pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly, took a few deep breaths, and then looked back up at him, eyes oddly clear and focused. She was clearly in control of her emotions, and Gibbs had the distinct feeling that she was a level-headed young woman who would make an excellent witness, without over-embellishing or omitting details.

"Duke Jackson is the brother of my friend Allison's husband, John. Allison and I only met a couple of years ago, so I'd only met Duke once or twice. I really don't know him well." She blew out a big breath, rose, and poured them each a cup of coffee from the French press before she continued. "Three days ago, on Monday, Allison brought her daughter, Hannah, in to see me. Hannah's been having recurrent urinary tract infections, which isn't entirely uncommon in girls her age—Hannah is four. Rather than just testing her urine this time, I decided to have a look to rule out other problems." Katherine paused to sip her coffee and closed her eyes against what she said next. "When I examined her, her vaginal area was extremely red and enflamed, and there was some bruising—though not terribly severe—of the labia. Now, even this isn't necessarily terribly alarming; young children will often fall and bruise their genital areas. So I asked her, 'Hannah, did you fall and hurt yourself?'" She swallowed. "Hannah then stated very clearly that Uncle Duke touched her there and made it feel bad."

Gibbs clenched his teeth together and his eyes tightened. Seasoned investigator though he was, he never quite got used to cases involving child abuse, particularly sexual abuse.

"What happened then, Dr. Andrews?"

"Well, naturally, Allison fell apart. She tried hard to hold it together in front of Hannah, but I could tell it was a losing battle, so I had her call her sister to come get Hannah, who seemed relatively nonchalant about the whole thing, thank God. She simply told her mother that she didn't like it when Uncle Duke touched her there and didn't want him to come over to babysit anymore, and then she continued playing with her doll. Once I was alone with Allison, she went ballistic, of course, sobbing and ranting about her brother-in-law. I told Allison that I was legally bound to report the abuse to child protective services, and she sat with me as I made the phone call. I then asked her if she wanted John to come in, or if she wanted to speak to him privately, and she said she would discuss it with him privately, as she couldn't vouch for his reaction. Then she left."

"Have you spoken to her since then, Dr. Andrews?"

"Yes. I wanted to call that night, but not only was I on-call, I felt that I needed to give the family some time to process things. I spoke to her the next afternoon, though. She said that John had reacted much as she suspected, hitting the roof and threatening to kill his brother." At this point, she paused. "I know how this looks and sounds, Agent Gibbs, but if my opinion means anything, which I'm sure it doesn't, John Jackson did not do this. I've known the man for two years, and he could not take a life."

"Not even the life of his daughter's molester?"

"Not even then. Not that he wouldn't _want_ to, of course. It's just that John is one of the most intelligent and disciplined men I've ever met and I can't see him losing control like that."

"What does John Jackson do for a living?"

Katherine smiled humorlessly. "I'm surprised you don't know that already. John Jackson is _Commander _John Jackson, and he is a professor at Annapolis."

----------

Katherine Andrews observed Agent Gibbs carefully as she spoke to him. His blue eyes were striking, and he was well built underneath his polo shirt and khaki pants. Without thinking, she glanced down at his left hand. No ring. She noted his reaction as she related the story of discovering what had happened to Hannah. _He is a good man, _she thought.

She was finding it hard to concentrate as well as she knew she needed to in order to help Agent Gibbs with his investigation. She was shocked and had no idea what to make of the note he has shown her, but she knew it was imperative to assist him to the best of her abilities.

She observed his raised eyebrows as she revealed that her friend's husband was, in fact, a naval officer.

"_Commander _Jackson?" he said. "He teaches at the Academy?"

"Yes," she answered. "He is a professor of mechanical engineering. When his last assignment aboard the _USS Louisiana_ ended, he accepted a commission to teach at the Academy. He's been doing that for five years or so now."

"And it is your assertion that he could not have been involved in his brother's murder?"

Katherine paused. She struggled a moment with how honest she should be. She finally settled for laying herself bare.

"Agent Gibbs, I never said he couldn't have been involved. I said he didn't do it. I know that John Jackson does not have it in him to murder a man, especially his own brother. But whether he was involved at all, I cannot say."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, as if evaluating whether she spoke the truth. "If possible, I need you to come to NCIS to make a more complete statement. Can you do that?"

Katherine glanced down at her calendar.

"I had just sat down to do some dictation and make some notes in patient charts….and once the office ladies leave in a few minutes, I'm actually going to be on call. But…I'll go ahead and do it if you can assure me that I'll be free to answer my phone as needed and to leave if I need to. Otherwise, it will have to wait." She smiled apologetically.

Gibbs nodded. "That will be fine. Thank you for being so cooperative."

__________

Gibbs stood with his coffee—which was quite good—and thanked the doctor once again for agreeing to come down to the office to give her statement. He was surprised to find himself looking her up and down appreciatively as they left her office together. She was in front of him, clad in a crisp white button-down shirt and black slacks, paired with smart heels that made her legs look longer than they were. He stopped those thoughts short and gave himself a mental slap on the back of the head. Inwardly rolling his eyes, he thought, _She can't be more than 26 or 27, you idiot—and a potential witness, to boot. Snap out of it, moron. _

----------

Gibbs pulled out a chair for Dr. Andrews in the interview room. He handed her a cup of coffee and apologized with a rueful smile, "Sorry, I highly doubt this is as good as your coffee—which was great, by the way…thanks again."

She smiled at him and took the coffee appreciatively. "What do you need from me, Agent Gibbs?"

"I just need a complete, official statement of what you've already told me. I'll record it, so you don't have to write it down. I'm going to start by asking you a few questions, and then once you get going, it will mostly be you, although I may break in every now and then with a question for clarification. Do you have any questions?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay, then, we'll begin when you're ready."

----------

An hour later, Katherine was finished, and was amazed to have only been interrupted once with a patient call. Agent Gibbs had informed one of his colleagues—Agent DiNozzo—that he was headed out to interview Cmdr. John Jackson, and that DiNozzo could close up shop for the day, if he liked. Gibbs walked her out to the main lobby of the NCIS offices, and Katherine stood there, unsure of what to do, until Gibbs turned to her.

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Andrews," he said warmly.

"Please, call me Katherine."

"Ok," he smiled. "Thank you for your time, Katherine."

"Is there anything I need to do from here on out?" she questioned.

Gibbs reached into his wallet and handed her a business card. "This is my contact information. If you think of anything else that might be pertinent, please call or email me. I have your information, and if I have any other questions, I'll be sure to get in touch with you. What's the best way to reach you?"

"You can always call me, but if I'm in with a patient, I won't answer. If you email me, you can be reasonably assured of getting a reply within an hour or so."

"Thank you, Katherine. I'll keep that in mind."

With that, Agent Gibbs turned smartly and took his leave of her, leaving a very intrigued Katherine Andrews in his wake.


	2. Chapter 2

That night, Gibbs stood in his basement, lost in thought. He leaned on his workbench and took a long pull on his beer. He was clueless to explain why, but he couldn't get the young doctor off of his mind. Though their conversation had been limited to the case—with a few thoughts about coffee thrown in—there was something about her that intrigued him, despite their apparent age difference. She seemed so incredibly level-headed to be so young, and he had to admit he found that attractive. But getting to know her better seemed out-of-the question, and he felt silly for even entertaining the thought. With a sigh, he pushed her out of his mind, placed his bottle on the workbench, and turned to face his boat.

----------

Katherine Andrews sat on her couch, Gibbs' business card in her hand. She held the corners between her middle fingers and flipped it over and over, using her thumbs. Damn, she could use a glass of wine right now, but she considered alcohol a no-no while on call, and she refused to break her own rules. She had no idea why, but she was fascinated by Agent Gibbs. There seemed to be absolutely no logical reason why he had made such an impression upon her, based on their interaction, but nonetheless, he had. It made no sense. He could be married, for all she knew. He was absurdly older than she. She knew nothing of his interests. Her career was young and she didn't need distractions.

She stood, blew out a sigh, and walked toward the kitchen, tossing the business card on the counter. Opening her fridge, she pulled out a bottle of water and drank half of it down in a few gulps. She began to rummage through the fridge in search of ingredients for an easy dinner when her cell phone rang. Flipping it open, she heard Allison's panicked voice. "Kate, oh my God, Duke's dead."

"I know, Ally, I know."

"Wait, what?"

"An agent from NCIS came to my office today. Apparently…" Katherine paused. "…apparently there was a note with the body that referenced me."

Allison seemed to not hear her as she plunged ahead. "Kate, they think John did it. An agent just left our house about an hour ago."

"Agent Gibbs?"

"Yeah."

"He's the same one who interviewed me today. Listen, Ally, I talked to the guy enough to get the idea that he's a level-headed sort who isn't going to jump to conclusions. Just let this thing run its course. I was honest with him, telling him everything I know, and I also told him that I can't fathom the idea of John killing anyone, even someone who hurt his daughter."

Allison began to cry. "Kate, John assaulted Duke. Beat the crap out of him, apparently. His hands are all bruised and cut. I didn't know until he admitted it to the agent, but John _swears_ that he left Duke alive _at his house _after telling him that he was going to do everything in his power to get him a nice little room and three meals a day at Leavenworth."

Katherine sighed. She had no idea what to say. She was unsure what her part in all of this was; she was friend, witness, and to top it all off, her name was in a note at a _murder_ scene.

"Ally…why don't you and Hannah come over for a little while? I'm on call, but we can make sugar cookies with Hannah and pop in a movie. You guys just need to get out of there and forget about this for a little while. Oh, and bring Mexican, will you?"

----------

Two hours later, the Mexican food was consumed, the sugar cookies were baking, and Katherine and Allison were seated on either side of Hannah on the couch, watching _Finding Nemo_ on the big screen. Allison looked calm but distracted as she reached down and ruffled her daughter's hair. Katherine, for her part, watched the movie absently, as her mind was once again on the intriguing Agent Gibbs. She was thinking of his hands, which she had noticed as she looked for a wedding ring earlier. They were strong and masculine, something she loved in a man. If everyone had that one body part that they particularly enjoyed in the opposite sex, she would be hard-pressed to deny that she loved hands. She mentally rolled her eyes at herself. _Why can you not get this guy off your mind?_ she asked herself. She wondered if it would be wildly inappropriate to ask him to dinner, then scoffed at the thought.

"What's on your mind?" she heard Allison ask.

"Hmm?" Katherine asked, pulling herself back to reality.

"You're smiling. What are you thinking about?" she inquired again.

_I'm smiling? Well, that's lovely, _Kate thought sarcastically. _Get a grip, Kate, _she chastised herself.

"It's nothing," she said sheepishly.

Allison raised an eyebrow. "Oh, _really_," she said in a voice that sounded totally unconvinced. "Does, uh, this _nothing_ have a name?" she smirked.

"Ugh, Al, it's not like that, really. I'm just being utterly ridiculous," Katherine stated, trying to close down the topic before she said too much.

Unfortunately for Katherine, Allison was both stubborn and intuitive. She gave a little snort and with an exasperated sigh, said, "Look, Kate, we can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way, but we both know I'm going to drag it out of you because now my curiosity is piqued, so you might as well just give."

Katherine put her face in her hands and her voice was muffled as she groaned, "No, Allison, this is stupid! It's so embarrassing and I feel absurd."

"Yeah, that's doing _nothing _to allay my curiosity," Allison laughed. "Come on, tell me, you'll feel better."

"I feel stupid," Kate mumbled.

Allison turned serious. "Kate, we've known each other what, two years? And in that time, I've seen you go out with three, maybe four guys, and you've never, _ever_ acted remotely enthused about one. Now, if there's a guy out there who's gotten your attention, I want to hear about it!"

Kate dropped her hands, resigned. "Ok." She brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Ok," she said again. "But let me be clear, this is a completely one-sided thing, and I don't even know him. Truly. I only met him today."

Allison raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Kate sighed. "Remember the NCIS agent that came to your house tonight?"

Allison's jaw dropped.

"Yeah. See? I told you it was absurd. First, I don't even know him. Second, he has expressed zero interest, and why would he? Third…yeah. He's got to be at least fifty."

Allison recovered admirably and after a moment, pursed her lips thoughtfully. "So what is it then?"

Kate considered. "I honestly don't know, Al. I honestly don't know. He walked into my office, and…he just…had my attention. Instantly. I can't explain it. And I certainly haven't talked to him enough to really know anything more than that. I would love to have dinner with him, though."

"So ask him."

Kate looked at her friend as if she'd suddenly grown another head.

"Seriously. Ask him," Allison reiterated. "What do you have to lose?"

The conversation was interrupted by the beeping of the oven timer. "Sugar cookies are ready," Kate murmured. She glanced down at Hannah, who had fallen asleep. She rose and headed for the kitchen. "Why don't you just put her in the guest room? She can sleep here and I'll bring her by on my way in to work in the morning."

"Aren't you on call? What if you have to go in?"

"Well…you stay, too. It'll be fun—we'll make a night of it."

----------

Gibbs tossed and turned all night long, wondering if sleep would ever find him. At 5 a.m., he gave it up and kicked off the covers in disgust, rising and heading for his bathroom. As he passed the mirror, he stopped and gave himself a once-over. He was wearing a gray t-shirt with USMC in huge letters across the front and a pair of blue striped boxers. He had to admit to himself that he looked pretty good for 51. The legs he saw were well-shaped and muscular. In one fluid motion, he pulled his shirt over his head and examined his upper body. His belly, like all middle-aged men, could use a little work, but his arms, chest, and shoulders were all well-toned. He ran his hands through his hair. And at least he wasn't bald. Hell, that was something, right?

Gibbs rolled his eyes and headed for the shower.

----------

Katherine Andrews awoke from what she considered a successful night on call, having fielded only three phone calls and making no trips to the hospital. She felt as well-rested as possible, considering the late night she and Allison had pulled. She showered and dressed slowly, allowing her brain to wake up. She was most definitely glad it was Friday.

She decided to forego her coffee until she made it to the office, knowing the grinder would awaken her sleeping guests. She grabbed a banana and some yogurt, picked up her laptop case, stuck a note for Allison to the fridge, and left to begin her day.

---------

Agent Timothy McGee gave Gibbs a withering stare. "You're kidding," he said flatly.

"Nope," said Gibbs.

"The guy is a government employee and even though his fingerprints are in a dozen different databases, he didn't bother to wear gloves at the crime scene?"

"Apparently not."

"Wow." McGee was at a loss for words. Gibbs, for his part, was happy to have closed the Duke Jackson case so quickly; it had been a long week. He looked at his watch; Four-thirty.

"I'll finish up the paperwork, Tim. Why don't you guys knock off early? Get outta here."

McGee raised his eyebrows. "Uh, you sure, Boss? I don't mind helping wrap it up."

"Nah, you guys have worked your asses off this week. Go."

McGee looked simultaneously doubtful and appreciative. "Well, uh, thanks. You have a good one, too, and call if anything comes up."

"Will do." Gibbs watched as McGee gathered up his laptop and headed for the door, Tony and Ziva close behind. The office was quiet; quite a few NCIS employees had decided to start the weekend early. That was just as well. Gibbs took out his phone, telling himself that he was simply going to call Dr. Andrews to explain that the case was neatly tied up and she need not worry any further about the note with Duke Jackson's body.

Just as Gibbs was scrolling through his contacts in search of her number, his phone vibrated. His eyes widened as he looked at the screen and saw the name displayed there.

_Katherine Andrews._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter. I will try my absolute best to be quick with updates in the next week or so, but I teach high school, and we just finished a week of state testing, which will be followed by our final exams next week, and then I'll have to do my grades for the semester. This is, of course, on top of the approximately 800 Christmas parties I have to attend in the next two weeks. ****In other words…I'm gonna be super swamped. I'll do my best, though! **

Gibbs looked at his phone in surprise. _Katherine Andrews? Why is _she _calling _me_? _he wondered as he answered his phone with his customary, "Gibbs."

"Good afternoon, Agent Gibbs," came the pediatrician's warm voice. "This is Katherine Andrews. I hope I'm not interrupting you…?" Her voice trailed off.

"No, not at all. As a matter of fact, I was just picking up my phone to call _you_," Gibbs answered easily.

"Oh, really? And why is that?"

"I wanted to let you know that the Duke Jackson cased has been closed, and rather quickly, too, so it looks like you were right, and John Jackson is in the clear."

"Who did it, Agent Gibbs?"

"Based on some fingerprints we lifted in the hotel room, it would appear that a caseworker from Child Protective Services, who has apparently seen one too many of these things, finally decided a little vigilante justice was in order. After you made the call, they ran their regular investigation, and then this gentleman decided that he'd had enough and arranged for his, uh, _own_ investigation of sorts."

Gibbs refrained from adding that he was actually sorry they'd caught the guy, in a way. He was glad that Commander Jackson had been cleared, as unsolved cases had a way of hanging over the heads of unproven suspects, but frankly, he didn't blame the CPS caseworker one bit for his actions. If only he'd been a bit more careful, the case likely would have languished.

"Well….I suppose that's good news?" She seemed distracted or ambivalent; he wasn't sure which.

"You don't sound very happy, Dr. Andrews. Your friend's husband is in the clear."

"No, it's not that—and again, please call me Katherine. Or Kate—whichever. It's just that regardless of what happened, it's still not a very good outcome, is it? I mean, one man is dead, not that I feel particularly sorry for him, and another man is now more than likely going to spend a very long time in jail for doing what most decent people would honestly _like _to do in this situation. And let's not forget the four-year-old girl who may be dealing with emotional trauma for some time to come." She paused. "Yes, I'm glad the case is closed, I'm glad it happened so quickly, and I'm most definitely glad that John is in the clear. But it just sort of seems like a lose-lose situation, Agent Gibbs…" she trailed off, and Gibbs was once again struck by her insightfulness.

But all he said was, "Call me Jethro, please, if you're going to insist on my calling you by your first name." He paused, and then remembered that she had called him, not vice versa. "Was there something you needed, by the way?"

There was silence for a moment, and then, "I was actually calling to see if you would like to have dinner with me."

Gibbs froze. _Well, _that_ was unexpected, _he thought. He was at a loss for words, which was uncharacteristic. He rarely got flustered.

"Jethro? Are you there?"

"Ah, yes…yes, I'm here. I'm sorry. I just—" he stopped. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling tiles. He had to ask. "It's just that…well…how old are you?"

He immediately sensed that he had asked the one question she had wished he wouldn't. He heard her breathe out quietly, and then she asked, "Does it really matter?"

"Humor me."

"I'm not quite as young as I look." Then she sighed, resigned. "I'll actually be having a birthday in a couple of weeks. I'll be turning thirty."

So it wasn't quite as bad as he had feared. She was correct; she looked younger. Still, the fact remained that she was still technically in her twenties, and here he was in his early fifties.

She continued, "I suppose I could ask you the same question—"

"Fifty-one," he cut her off.

She continued, "but I _won't_," she said pointedly, "because I'm not concerned about it. Tell me, Agent Gibbs—Jethro—do you really think it matters? Put another way, would you accept my dinner invitation if I were not so much younger than you?"

Gibbs considered for only the barest moment. "Yes. I would."

"Then I would ask you to just consider having dinner with me, then. I understand your concern; really, I do. You have my contact information if you decide you would be interested." She paused. In a low and genuine voice, she said, "Thank you for your work on Duke's case. I really am happy that John is free of suspicion. I hope to hear from you soon. Goodbye."

And with that she was gone, leaving Gibbs' head fairly spinning in the process.

----------

Katherine Andrews sank back into her office chair and blew out a long breath, trying to release the tension from her body. She was done for the day—being on call the previous night allowed her to head out a bit early—but she wasn't quite ready to move just yet. She stared at the phone she had just placed back on her desk. It wasn't exactly a rejection, no, but then again, she didn't yet have a dinner date with him, either.

She and Allison had stayed up late, talking things through, and Allison had finally convinced her that it was worth going for, and that the age difference was really a non-issue. "Age is just a number, Kate," Allison had said. "If you click, who cares how old you guys are? My grandfather was nineteen years older than my grandmother, and their marriage worked like a dream. You gotta give this a shot, K."

The more she considered, the more she had agreed with her friend. And so she'd taken the plunge and decided to ask him to dinner. She was a low-key person by nature, and not prone to high-schoolish nervousness over men, but she had to admit to a slight case of the jitters when she picked up the phone to call him. The phone call itself hadn't been as difficult as she had anticipated, though, and she felt both contentment and relief now that she knew she had at least signaled to him her interest and left the ball in his court. If he was interested (_which he more or less admitted that he was_, she told herself), he would respond in kind.

She stood, gathered her things, and headed home, determined to have a relaxing Friday night.

----------

Gibbs continued leaning back in his chair for some moments, feeling completely dazed. _Who'd have guessed? …she _is _interested, _he thought in disbelief. But…an age difference of 21 years? The idea seemed bizarre. Still, though, he was intrigued by her assertion that it didn't matter, and even more intrigued by her calm acceptance of his hesitation. She had apparently anticipated his reluctance, and yet she issued her invitation anyway. He barely knew her, but what he knew, he liked. She was mature. Rational. Brave. Calm. Smart. Level-headed. The sort of woman who would have appealed to him even _without_ the incredible red hair and beautiful face. He clasped his hands together. _Did_ the age difference matter? Clearly, it didn't to her. And she certainly didn't act her age, which helped.

Slowly, Gibbs sat up, deep in thought. He dug in his desk for the piece of paper on which Katherine Andrews had written her contact information. Pulling it out, he noted the address. He stood and grabbed his keys. He had two stops to make, and he sincerely hoped he could figure out the damned GPS in his car…

----------

Katherine was pleased to discover that once she'd taken action on her interest in the NCIS agent, she was able to push him from her mind a bit more easily. She knew that it was up to him now, and if he was interested, he would let her know, and if he wasn't, at least she had tried.

An hour after she arrived home, she stood in front of the wine rack in her dining room, clad in comfortable black yoga pants and a white tank top. She studied the bottles before her intently for a moment before carefully selecting a cabernet. Padding toward the kitchen, she uncorked the bottle and left it on the counter to breathe. She started a load of whites in the washer, unloaded the dishwasher, and took out the trash. When those small chores were completed, she poured herself a glass of the cabernet and drifted toward the living room. She turned on the TV, selected a music station playing acoustic guitar, and flopped down on the couch to relax. She brought the wine glass to her lips, inhaled gently, and was savoring the first sip when the doorbell rang.

She wrinkled her forehead in confusion—it was too late for a delivery. She rose and walked to the front door, looking out the peephole.

Her eyes grew large as she saw Leroy Jethro Gibbs on her front porch.

Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door and pulled it open, flashing him a warm smile. "Well, isn't this a surprise?" He returned her smile and then glanced down, and Kate remembered she was wearing only a thin white tank top—without the benefit of a bra underneath. "Oops," she muttered as she stepped back. "Here, come on in," she said as she grabbed a long-sleeved gray t-shirt draped over the arm of her couch. _Nice, Kate…real nice, _she chastised herself as she pulled the shirt over her head. She turned back toward her guest and saw him scrutinizing the Greek letters on her shirt. "Funny," he remarked mildly, "I didn't take you for the sorority type." He closed her front door behind him. She grinned and shrugged. "It was fun. Gotta do something in college to mitigate the miserable hours slaving away over papers and in labs." She gestured toward his hand; "What's in the bag?" she asked curiously.

"Chinese," he said with a smile, "….if that's all right?"

"Ahh, yes" Kate said appreciatively, "I was sort of wondering what I was going to eat tonight. Didn't really feel like cooking, to be honest. Thanks," she smiled warmly. "Here, give me that and I'll serve it up…so, what made you change your mind?" she asked nonchalantly as she headed toward the kitchen with the bag of Chinese take-out.

Gibbs followed her and leaned against the breakfast bar. "I thought about what you said, and I figured that since you went out on a limb, it would be rude of me to let something so inconsequential prevent me from getting to know you better." He smiled easily. "I'm sorry if I _was_ rude earlier. I was just…surprised."

"It's okay, I understand…trust me," Kate replied as she pulled out two plates. "Wine? Not sure how well it'll go with Chinese, but I'd just sat down with a glass when you got here. Speaking of which," she continued with a wrinkled brow, "how did you know where I…" she trailed off and then said, "Oh…I gave you my address." She rolled her eyes. "Been a long week. Anyway…wine?" She held up the bottle. "It's a Cabernet…Napa."

"Thanks. I've had a long week myself." He watched as she poured the wine. Her hands were graceful, elegant, and unadorned with jewelry. Her long red hair was pulled back into a messy knot at the base of her neck, which he found far sexier than he cared to admit—even to himself. She handed him the glass of wine, and their fingers brushed for just a moment. Her skin was soft.

"Have a seat," she gestured toward a stool at the breakfast bar. Gibbs obliged. He watched her open a carton of fried rice and shake it out in a generous portion on each plate. She grabbed two sets of wrapped chopsticks out of the bag and held them up. "Chopsticks or forks?" she inquired.

Gibbs scoffed, "Chopsticks, of course."

She grinned and shook the chopsticks at him. "Good man."

She turned back to the food. "Any chance there's some wonton soup in there?" she asked hopefully.

"It's your lucky day," he responded, grinning. He watched, pleased, as she eagerly dug through the bag until she found the cartons of soup. "Mmm," she murmured contentedly as she smelled it. She looked at him. "Wonton soup is my favorite. Well, that and crab Rangoon."

Gibbs grinned. Too easy. "Well in that case, there's another surprise waiting in there for you."

He listened, enchanted, as Katherine burst forth with a small laugh. "It really _is _my lucky day, huh?" she said, and Gibbs sensed some hidden meaning in her words.

She finished pulling out the cartons, and began the business of dishing out the various foods to the two plates. She reached for two small bowls and transferred some wonton soup to each. Finally, she walked into her dining room, pulled two linen napkins from her sideboard, and placed them on the table. Walking back into the kitchen, she grabbed the two plates and motioned to Gibbs to follow her. "And will you get the soup bowls, too?" she asked nonchalantly, trying to act calmer than she felt.

Gibbs complied, and then went back for the wine bottle and their wine glasses when he was done. He placed them on the small table and then pulled out a chair and gestured for Katherine to sit down. He then took his own seat next to her and picked up his glass of wine.

Raising his glass, he said, "To…thinking outside the box," he said with a smile.

Kate raised her own glass, "To thinking outside the box." Glasses clinked, and wine was sipped.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hope you enjoy the new chapter. And yes…there's a shout-out to my sorority in here. ****Sigma Kappa, Sigma K, we all live one heart, one way!**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was astounded. He was five minutes into dinner with a woman 21 years his junior, and he was not only completely at ease, he was spellbound. Equally bewildering was that she seemed to feel the same way.

They had begun their meal after his impromptu toast, and after a bite or two, he had said, "Tell me about yourself. Where are you from?" She had replied that she was born in Arlington and despite her father's career in the Marines, had managed to have a relatively normal childhood, with minimal moving. Her father had retired when she was ten, and they had settled in the greater D.C. area permanently. He had then referred back to her sorority shirt, emblazoned with the Greek letters Sigma Kappa, and asked where she had gone to college. She had seemed a little bashful as she replied, "The University of Pennsylvania." Gibbs had nodded, appropriately impressed at her Ivy League status and asked if she had attended medical school there, as well. She replied in the affirmative and he asked with a grin what took her to Penn, as opposed to, say, Harvard or Cornell. Her answer had floored him. "I went on a gymnastics scholarship."

Well, okay then.

Now here he sat, next to her, dying to know more.

"Wow," was all he could come up with for a moment. "So, did you ever try for the Olympics?"

"No. Too tall, too old." She smiled at his puzzled look. She realized that to him, she would seem neither too tall nor too old for much of anything. "I graduated at 21, and 21 is ancient in the gymnastics world. Plus, I realize that 5'6" may not seem very tall, but it's absolutely monstrous in gymnastics."

"Why?" he inquired, unable to help himself.

"Rotation," she answered. "The longer your body is, the longer it takes to make a rotation when tumbling or swinging on the bars. It takes more force and is just generally more difficult. I just wasn't built to take the sport beyond the collegiate level. I went to nationals twice, and the highest I ever placed was fifth in all-around and one year, I took the bronze in uneven bars, but…" she shrugged.

Gibbs was speechless. He decided to change the subject. "And what piqued your interest in medicine?"

She smiled. "Gymnastics. When I was in the 8th grade, I tore my ACL at the end of a tumbling run and had to have surgery. It was the most excruciating pain I've ever experienced, so I tried to keep my mind off of it by immersing myself in the medical details. I thought for awhile I wanted to go into orthopedics, but when I was in my residency and did my rotation in pediatrics, I fell in love with the kids." She shrugged again in her self-deprecating way. "And you?" she asked. "How did you become an NCIS agent?"

"I joined the Agency after I left the Marines. It seemed a logical progression."

"Ahh, a Marine. I got that vibe," she said easily. "What was your job?"

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. "I was a sniper."

She looked stunned. "You're kidding."

Gibbs was taken aback. Did she have a problem with his former occupation? "No…why?"

"My dad was a sniper."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

She continued, "His name is Rich Andrews. Know him?"

Gibbs searched his memory. "I don't think so…"

"Well, at any rate, it's an interesting coincidence." She paused to place a piece of chicken in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Gibbs continued questioning her; without a doubt, he was fascinated and was quickly moving past the point of caring whether or not it was appropriate.

"So what do you do for fun when you're not busy tending to sick kids?" he asked, smiling.

She gave a little laugh. "I'm afraid you'll find me terribly boring in that aspect. I'll say this: since I finished my residency, I've splurged on just three things—my house, my car, and my boat. I'm pretty much just obsessed with the water, which is a struggle when you're a redhead" she laughed. "I spend every spare minute on the water, slathered in sunscreen, when the weather's nice, and when it's not…I just swim at the Y and wait for summer to return."

Gibbs smiled and shook his head.

"What?" she asked warily.

"You like boats?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I build boats as a hobby."

"You…_build _boats?" she asked incredulously. "Like…with your bare hands?"

"Yep. No power tools, nothing. It's very relaxing."

She huffed out a little laugh, awestruck. "And there you were, acting like it was impressive that I can turn a few flips and bounce around on a balance beam. Wow. Now _that_ I would love to see sometime."

Gibbs smiled. "Sure, anytime." He sipped at his wine. "This is good."

"Good, I'm glad you like it. I guess you could say wine is another hobby. I love reds…although I _don't _love the headaches they give me when I overindulge," she said, wincing. "Would you like more?" she said, reaching for the bottle.

"Here, let me," he said, taking the bottle and refilling her glass, as well as his own. Once again, he raised his glass, although this time he didn't verbalize a toast. He simply looked into her eyes as they gently brought their glasses together, and he held her gaze as he sipped the wine.

---------

Kate Andrews' heart was pounding. This was going better than she had any right to imagine, and she was amazed at what they had in common. He was a Marine. He loved boats and boating. He was interested in her. He seemed _very_ intrigued by what she had to say, in fact. She was dying to ask him if he'd ever been married or if he had any children, but those questions seemed far too personal for a first dinner, and she was loathe to break the spell with anything potentially awkward.

Just then, he asked her, "So what kind of boat did you splurge on?"

She grinned. "A 23-foot cuddy cabin. If I'm feeling really stressed, I'll just take it out overnight, throw out anchor, and sleep on the water. It never fails to relax me." She sipped her wine as she finished her sentence. "I wanted a bow-rider, but the cuddy cabin is more of an all-purpose boat, since you can sleep on it. I was actually planning on going out with John, Allison, and Hannah tomorrow, but they're, uh, busy with Duke's arrangements, so I guess I'll stay in now. It's kind of a pain to take it out by myself." She stopped, just as Gibbs opened his mouth. She continued, "…unless…you'd be interested…?" She trailed off.

"I would."

She nodded. She hoped he couldn't see that she was a little nervous. "I keep the boat at the Belle Haven Marina. Do you want me to pick you up…?"

"No, I'll pick you up. What time?"

"Is nine too early? It'll give us maximum time on the water, since it's getting late in the season."

"Nine's great."

----------

Gibbs couldn't believe the turn things had taken. This morning, Kate Andrews was no more than a thought in his head, and now, he was having dinner with her and making plans to go out boating tomorrow. Amazing how quickly things can happen, he thought.

As they finished their meal, it occurred to him to wonder how things would proceed this evening. Where to now? Kate, for her part, seemed to have the situation in hand. As she cleared their plates, she asked, "Would you care for a movie?"

"Sure," Gibbs found himself answering before he had time to think.

"More wine?" she asked. The bottle of cabernet was empty. He nodded.

"That'd be great," he said.

"Care if we switch to a white?" she asked, looking hesitant. "I'll be crippled with a headache tomorrow if I have any more cab," she said, seeming a bit embarrassed.

"Sure thing. Got a good sauvignon blanc?"

Kate smiled. "Ahh…a man after my own heart."

----------

Kate had turned Gibbs loose on her huge wine rack to select a bottle, and she loaded the dishwasher as he perused her selections. "You've got some great wines here," he called to her.

"Thanks," she grinned. "As I said, it's a hobby. Find one you like?"

"I think so. Got a South African one here that looks good."

"Oh, yeah, that's a good one," she said enthusiastically. "Want to pop the cork while I finish this up?"

Gibbs readied the wine while Kate loaded the dishwasher. He carried the bottle and glasses to her living room as she finished up. He placed the wine on the coffee table and looked at the large couch, wondering exactly where to situate himself. He finally settled on a position in the middle of the couch, leaving plenty of space on either side for Kate to sit.

After a few moments, Kate sauntered into the living room and opened a cabinet containing hundreds of DVDs. "Wow, that's a serious collection," Gibbs observed.

"I've always enjoyed movies," she noted nonchalantly. "It's a nice escape. Anything in particular you like?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm flexible," he said noncommittally.

"You like Tom Hanks?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Okay…pick one: _Forrest Gump, Apollo 13, _or _Castaway_," she challenged.

Gibbs pretended to deliberate. "Hmm…_Apollo 13_," he decreed.

Kate clutched the DVD to her chest. "A man after my own heart," she found herself repeating.

----------

Kate inserted the DVD into the player, all the while stressing over where to position herself on the couch in relation to her date. Aided by the wine, she finally decided to throw caution to the wind, plop down right next to the enchanting Agent Gibbs, and let the chips fall where they may.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you all so very much for the kind reviews. I enjoy reading them and it provides encouragement as I write. One kind reviewer noted that I have thus far kept Gibbs in character, and I just want to apologize in advance if it turns out that that doesn't remain the case. That is, of course, one of the nice things about fanfic—you have the freedom to do with the characters things that the writers never would. ****I promise I won't take him too wildly out of character, but I did want to provide a sort of advance **_**mea culpa**_** just in case!**

Gibbs was only mildly surprised when Kate seated herself directly next to him on the couch—not quite touching him, but definitely closer than a casual acquaintance might sit. He mentally laughed at himself as he realized he felt a bit like a high school kid on a first date, wondering where to put his hands. He took another sip of his wine, leaned forward to place it on the table, and, throwing caution to the wind, leaned back and slung his arm around Kate. She seemed to appreciate the gesture and leaned into him a bit as she navigated the DVD menu and started the movie. Gibbs couldn't resist making a comment about watching the Apollo 13 tragedy play out on TV as a twelve-year-old. Kate rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah, _that_ certainly doesn't make the age difference any less awkward," with a laugh. Gibbs decided she had a great laugh. He also decided that he didn't care if, nine years before her birth, he was practically a teenager watching the Apollo 13 crisis unfold. Sure, it was odd and maybe a little awkward, but in the grand scheme o f things, was it really that big a deal? He thought not. He had been trying valiantly not to consider the fact that the woman he was now holding was, in fact, only four years older than his daughter, but once he allowed himself to confront that thought, he immediately put it from his mind. Kelly was gone. Kelly had never _been _Kate's age; Kelly was never going to _be_ Kate's age. He threw that all-too-familiar wall up around the heartache and resolved to allow himself to be happy for once.

As he settled in more comfortably, he was suddenly glad he had stopped by his house to change out of his work clothes into jeans and a polo. He was comfortable and relaxed—much more so than he had thought he would be. His thoughts were working themselves out, his attraction to the woman next to him was growing, and the weekend was just beginning.

----------

Kate thought it was too good to be true when Gibbs put his arm around her. Almost involuntarily, she leaned into him as she fumbled with the remote, hoping he couldn't hear or feel her heart racing in response. God, he smelled amazing. And he _looked_ even better. She had been so shocked to see him at her door earlier that she had paid scant attention to what he was wearing, but after the surprise had faded, she had been nearly blown away by how incredible he looked in jeans and a navy blue polo shirt that made his already impossibly blue eyes stand out even more. She was not in the habit of dating older men, and as a matter of fact, had _never_ dated anyone more than a year or so older, but she had the distinct feeling that she could get used to the idea.

She laughed out loud when he made a comment about watching the Apollo 13 spectacle live on TV; his remark, while seeming awkward on the surface, put them both more at ease by getting the reality of their age difference out in the open.

Yep. She was definitely a goner.

----------

The movie was drawing to a close, and Gibbs saw that Kate was growing sleepy. He recalled that she had been on call the previous evening; there was no telling how little sleep she'd gotten. He was rubbing her arm gently with his thumb as she leaned her head against his shoulder. He could smell her hair; it smelled clean and fresh without being offensively sweet and cloying. Kate was still watching the movie, but Gibbs could see that keeping her eyes open was becoming a struggle. As the closing credits rolled, he was shocked to find himself dropping a gentle kiss into her hair, and even more shocked to realize how much he enjoyed it when she looked up at him with a tired smile in response.

"Rough night on call last night?" he asked with a smile.

"Actually," she responded, yawning, "it was a really light night, as far as being on call, but Allison and Hannah stayed over, and Ally and I stayed up really late talking. Sorry," she yawned again, "I don't mean to be rude."

"Not at all," he answered gently, adjusting himself so he could sit up. "I think I've overstayed my welcome for the evening, anyway." He released her and stood up, and then reached down and took her hand, pulling her up. Her eyes were large as she stood facing him, their faces in closer proximity than they had been all evening. He looked down at her and although his brain was screaming that it was much, much too soon, he felt as if there was a magnetic pull between them as he bent his head down and kissed her lips very softly. He raised his right hand to her neck and caressed it gently as he took her lower lip between both of his. The kiss was chaste, but there was a lingering promise of something else as he pulled back and gazed into her eyes. She was charmed by the small, crooked smile on his face as he released her, said, "I'll pick you up at nine," and turned for the door.

----------

Katherine Andrews was dizzy. Leroy Jethro Gibbs had just quietly shut her front door behind him, and she sank down on the couch in a daze. What had begun as a quiet, relaxing evening at home had turned into something completely unexpected, and she was absolutely stunned at the turn of events. The kiss she had just received, while simple and sweet, had been simultaneously searing, making her heart pound and her palms sweat. If she was tired before, she certainly wasn't now. In fact, she didn't think nine a.m. could come soon enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Yes, I know the last couple of chapters have been short! My apologies—and rest assured that is usually not my style…I just seem to have found good stopping points, so I went with them. I think you'll find this chapter to be more than absurdly long. **** Thanks again for all the very nice reviews. I'm having a lot of fun with this, and it is an EXCELLENT distraction from the stresses that come with the end of the semester for me, as a teacher with two kids of my own, and a very full schedule of Christmas parties! After I've accomplished a certain number of things on my to-do list, I reward myself with time to write fanfic…fluffy, romantic fanfic that makes my heart happy. **

**PS—It had been my understanding that Gibb's exact age remained unknown, so I made a guess of 53; however, I have since learned that we do know he was born in 1958, making him 51. All previous chapters have been updated to correct any mentions of Gibbs' age or the age difference between him and Kate. **

Gibbs lay in bed that night with his fingers laced behind his head, thinking. He was trying to figure out what the hell had happened to him. To be certain, he had absolutely _no_ regrets about the way the evening had gone; in fact, he had enjoyed every minute of it. It's just that he was acting so very out of character. Gibbs—the man everyone knew—was closed-up, walled-off, and emotionally inaccessible. That had been his way for so long—and then to suddenly, in one day, do a total one-eighty and let someone in? Someone so totally unlikely? A woman not quite yet thirty? He had no idea how or why it had happened. He felt as though he had been caught in the deep freeze of an emotional winter for the past two decades and was beginning to emerge, bit by bit, in spring's first thaw.

Gibbs liked this woman. He really, _really_ liked this woman. He couldn't wait to see her again. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted her to know more about him. He wanted to make her smile and laugh. And of course…he desired her physically. He knew he had been a little quick with his good night kiss, but he hadn't been able to help himself. She had been so breathtaking, standing there, looking up at him with eyes drowsy from wine and lack of sleep.

He had never been one to shy away from physical relationships. On the contrary, Leroy Jethro Gibbs enjoyed the company of a woman as much as any man, and in the past had not always been particularly reserved about throwing himself into sexual encounters. But he felt an odd desire to play his cards more carefully with this one. Because he already felt so strongly about her, he suddenly yearned to do something right, for once, and take it slowly.

He had a lot to think about, and his thoughts were twisting and winding from one topic to another. One thing he knew for certain, though: tomorrow would prove to be a very interesting day.

----------

Kate slept well and rose at 7:00 to shower and make food for the day ahead. She spent more time than strictly necessary shaving her legs, and entirely too much time stressing over which swimsuit to wear, and what to wear over it. She was finishing packing the cooler when the doorbell rang, promptly at nine o'clock. She smiled at his punctuality.

"Come on in; it's unlocked!" she shouted as she dumped a bag of ice into the cooler. She heard the door open and looked up. She was almost exasperated at how good he looked. He was wearing a Washington Nationals t-shirt with navy blue swim trunks and carrying a bag which she could only assume held a change of clothes. He had brown Top-Siders on his feet, and she thought it was a little absurd that his legs were just as sexy as the rest of him. She couldn't catch a break with this guy. She felt like she was perpetually left in a state of teenage lust when he was near her. She wanted to gripe at him for making her heart race, but settled for a grin and a "Good morning, how are you?"

He replied with a grin of his own and said, "Great, you?"

"I'm fine, and better yet, I'm just about ready to hit the road. Just have to grab a couple of towels and some sunscreen and we'll be on our way." He watched as she disappeared into what he assumed was a laundry room and returned with several large beach towels. She held up a finger, indicating that she would be right back and vanished down a hallway. Two minutes she returned with a large canvas bag bearing her monogram—KAM—and said, "Ok, that's it. We're ready. You driving?"

Gibbs nodded and said, "What the M for?"

"Huh?"

"On your bag…what does the M stand for?"

"Oh," she said, understanding. "Meredith. Katherine Meredith." Gibbs nodded. He had no idea why he had needed to know that information, but he had.

"Want me to get the cooler?" he asked. "How many days you planning on staying out?" he teased.

"Hey, I like to be prepared," she said defensively. "_And _the water makes me really hungry."

----------

The drive to the marina had been pleasant. He had asked her a bit about her boat, and they had chatted easily about that and other water-related things. The conversation was light and unforced. He was glad to be able to concentrate on the road, as he was having a difficult time keeping his mind off of what exactly the swimsuit he could see peeking out from her cover-up looked like. She was wearing a strapless black cover up that came down to just above her knees, and there was a turquoise halter-style bikini top (at least, he assumed, or rather—hoped—it was a bikini top) underneath. She wore turquoise and black Teva sandals on her feet. Her skin was pale and freckled and he understood what she had meant about the difficulties of being a redhead and loving the water. She wore a floppy straw-colored hat atop her head, and she had placed her red hair into two braids, starting just below each ear, which he found incredibly appealing. His "take-it-slow" plan from last night didn't seem like nearly such a great idea now.

He was relieved when he finally pulled into the marina parking lot and he and Kate unloaded the cooler and bags. The walk to the boat slip was short and he put the cooler down to help Kate remove the covers from the boat. He gave a low whistle as she was stowing the covers. "This is nice," he said appreciatively.

"Thanks," she beamed. "I bought it used, and got a great deal on it. I've been thrilled with it so far—worth every penny. Here, hand me the bags." Gibbs complied and then picked up the cooler and stepped down into the boat with it. They spent the next few minutes stowing the cooler, organizing belongings, and readying the boat for launch. Kate removed the food from the cooler, leaving only drinks and ice, and placed it in a small fridge down in the cabin. She flipped a few switches at the helm and then dug in her canvas bag, emerging with a large bottle of sunscreen. She smiled ruefully at him as she dumped a big glob in her palm and proceeded to give her arms, shoulders, and chest a rubdown. She repeated the treatment for her face, consulting a mirror to be sure she had it all rubbed in. "Sunscreen?" she asked him when she was finished.

"Yeah, thanks, I could probably use some on my face." He rubbed the lotion in dutifully and then smiled at her. "We ready?"

"Yep…if you want to untie us, we'll head out."

----------

Kate was tearing downriver, engine wide open. Gibbs leaned back and enjoyed the sight of her, clearly in her element. She drove standing up, with one knee on the seat and her braids jumping around in the wind. Her floppy hat had taken up residence in the cabin, and she wore sunglasses now, so he couldn't see her eyes, but he could tell she was happy. After five or ten minutes, she began to slow the boat and approach the bank on the starboard side. "It's hot. Want to swim? Or ski? Do you ski?" she asked.

"Hmm…it's been awhile," he admitted, "but they say it's like riding a bike…maybe in a few. I'd rather test the water out first. You're right; it _is _hot."

She navigated to an out-of-the-way spot and instructed him to throw anchor, pointing to the anchor locker. She watched his muscles play under his shirt as he lifted the heavy anchor and threw it out to starboard, mooring them securely in place. She shut off the engine, but left the radio playing on a classic rock station. She dug into the cooler for a bottle of water as "Seven Bridges Road" began playing.

"The Eagles…good stuff," he commented as she offered him a water bottle.

She couldn't resist. "Yeah, I thought I'd play some music from your glory days," she smirked.

"Ouch," he grinned good-naturedly. "Doesn't matter, though—it's still great music. Hey, can I borrow your sunscreen again?" he asked as he began pulling his shirt off.

Kate turned to look for the sunscreen, trying to give herself a moment before she turned back around, because she had a sneaking suspicion that he would look as good _without_ a shirt as he did _with_ one, and she didn't want to stare. She located the bottle of Banana Boat, and turned back around, handing it to him. Yep. She was right. She sighed inwardly and figured she might as well get on with it. She casually watched him slather the sun block on as she pulled her cover-up down, stepping out of it and tossing it into a storage compartment. As he was finishing up, she reached for the bottle. "Need me to get your back?" she said, almost hesitantly. He nodded and turned from her. Kate squeezed some lotion into her hands and started rubbing him down. His skin was warm, well-muscled, and surprisingly soft. When she had finished, he turned around and she silently handed him the bottle and turned her own back to him. She enjoyed feeling his strong hands smoothing the sunscreen across her back and shoulders probably a little bit more than she should have, but he managed to make it feel more like a massage than a precautionary measure against sunburn, and she couldn't help herself. When he had finished, she said, "Thanks," in a voice that sounded nearly normal and took the bottle back to finish shielding her stomach and legs from the sun. He watched curiously as she grabbed another bottle from the helm—this one a small spray can of sunscreen—and sprayed it across her scalp and ears. She smiled at him and said, "If I don't spray my head, my scalp will burn where my hair is parted and in about four days I'll look like I'm in serious need of a bottle of Head and Shoulders." He laughed at that and she found that she enjoyed the sound of it very much.

----------

Gibbs was feeling self-conscious for the first time in—well—a really long time, but he was determined not to let it show. Kate wanted to swim, and he knew he was going to have to come out of his shirt. He was more than anxious to get her out of _her_ cover-up, but then again, she was young and beautiful, while he…well, he was not. At least in his own mind. Sure, he knew he was fairly handsome, and he knew that he couldn't complain about his physique. But still…he was a middle-aged guy about to get shirtless in front of a beautiful young woman, and, well, that was enough to mess with _any_ man's psyche, wasn't it? He decided to just bite the bullet and lose the shirt. He felt mildly relieved when she turned away just as he was pulling it over his head, and then somewhat gratified, when she turned back, to see that she was watching him with what seemed like interest as he applied sunscreen. When she asked if he wanted her to do his back, he was pleasantly surprised, and when she turned her own back to him in reply, he was thankful for the chance to check her out unobserved. She was wearing a bikini in a turquoise color that was absolutely perfect for her skin and hair. She had what seemed to be a flawless figure, and he could see that she did indeed have the remnants of the muscular legs that belong to all competitive gymnasts.

When he finished, she thanked him and reached for yet another bottle and proceeded to spray it across her head. He laughed out loud when she explained that even her head would burn if she didn't. When she was properly protected from the sun's rays, he stepped down to the swim platform and lowered the ladder into the water, then stood back up and did a cannonball into the river. When he surfaced and shook the water from his hair, she was standing on the swim platform laughing. "Show-off," she muttered. "That's okay," she smirked, "two can play that game." With that, she stepped to the edge of the platform, turned around so that her back was to him, and effortlessly jumped straight up into the air. When she had nearly reached the apex of her leap, she gracefully drew her knees up and executed a perfect back tuck into the river. It looked to Gibbs as though she might have expended more energy yawning. She broke to the surface a mere three feet from him and wiped the water from her face. She laughed when he said, "Okay, okay, I give it a ten."

They spent a moment treading water, taking in the scenery, and she said, "The water feels good. It's a nice day." She cocked her head to the side just a bit and then said, "I'm glad we did this," sounding quite sincere.

"Me, too," he said, and proceeded to splash her in the face with a laugh. She growled playfully and lunged at him wrapping her arm around his throat and dunking him under the water. He surfaced, twisting away from her grasp and wound his arms around her waist, laughing as he pinned her back against his chest, hugging her to him and kissing the back of her neck. He was pleased when she shivered with pleasure at the feel of his lips.

He released her before his body could betray him while she was pressed against his front and she turned in the water to face him. She smiled, and then turned thoughtful. "So…are you at the mercy of your job, too? If a sailor or a Marine finds himself murdered, do you have to go immediately, regardless of where you are or when it is?"

"If it's a murder, then yes, as the head of the team, I'll generally go immediately. But if it's something more minor, not necessarily. My team handles major cases—felonies—and they are all very good at their jobs, so if it's a case involving a felony, but it's not something extremely urgent—like a murder, or a kidnapping, or something along those lines, then I can sometimes let my less senior team members handle it. But generally, the only reason I'd get called on a night or weekend is if it _was_ something major."

She looked toward the boat. "So can you hear your phone from here?"

He shrugged. "I won't be away from it long enough for it to matter. I'll check it when we get back in. Speaking of…you want me to drive while you ski?"

Her face brightened. "Sure, thanks!"

He swam to the ladder and climbed aboard. She started up the ladder behind him and he reached down and took her hands to help her up. He pulled up the anchor and stowed it in its locker while she pulled out her skis, the ski rope, and a lifejacket. He then watched with interest as she pulled a pair of black board shorts from her bag and tugged them on. "Why the shorts?" he asked.

She smiled widely. "Because I figured you might not be too impressed if I lost my bikini bottoms hitting the water on our first date." Her grin faltered for just an instant, as if afraid she'd said the wrong thing, but she recovered when Gibbs said, "You're mistaken on both counts. This is our _second _date," he corrected.

Kate shook her head with a wide grin, snapped her life jacket on, strapped her skis in place, and jumped in the water. Gibbs gave the helm a quick once-over as he sat in the captain's chair, and soon, they were off.

----------

Kate was more than glad to have a couple of uninterrupted moments to think, now that she was skiing forty feet behind the boat. Her head was reeling on her shoulders, and she needed a few moments to collect herself. This was going better than she had any right to dream, and she kept wondering if she was going to wake up in a moment and be really pissed off that the dream was over. She was having the time of her life with a man she'd known less than 48 hours. How was that even possible?

Getting in the water with him to swim had been—honestly, the first word that came to mind was _dreamy_—but their impromptu water wrestling match was even better. She had thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest when he pulled her against him with his arms tightened securely around her midsection. And when he kissed her neck? Somehow _that_ simple action had seemed worlds more intimate than the kiss they had shared last night and she had been completely unable to keep her body from shivering in response. Even now, as she skied, watching him helm her boat gave her heart a little shudder and she once again felt like a schoolgirl.

She shook her head to clear it as she jumped the wake and sailed out behind the boat to the starboard side. Gibbs navigated a bend in the river and she leaned into the turn, jumping back over the wake and nearly face-planting in the process. Gibbs saw the bobble in the rearview mirror and she could see him smiling at her near-miss. She decided to quit before she really embarrassed herself and released the rope, coasting until her weight pulled her down into the water as she waited for him to circle around and pick her up.

---------

The next few hours passed entirely too quickly. They took turns skiing (Gibbs was, as she suspected, perfectly proficient on skis, although he did have a couple of nice wipeouts when he attempted something a little too ambitious), they ate lunch (during which he raved over her chicken salad sandwiches), and she dutifully reapplied her sunscreen every hour, Gibbs stepping in to help with her back. During a lull in the watersports, they were lounging on the back of the boat, and out of nowhere, Gibbs said, "What is it you want to say? All day you've looked like you wanted to say something, but you change your mind."

Kate raised an eyebrow in response. Gibbs smiled and said, "I get paid to notice things, remember?"

"Ah," Kate said succinctly. "Indeed." She picked at a cuticle. "It wasn't so much a statement as a question, and it's not really any of my business, anyhow."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Ask anyway."

She wrinkled her eyebrows together. "Just a point of curiosity is all. You're obviously very handsome—" (at this, Gibbs smiled) –"and very intelligent and fascinating to talk to. Just wondering how it is that you're still 'on the market,' so to speak. Have you ever been married?" She clamped her mouth shut, embarrassed.

Gibbs was, for his part, unruffled by the question as he held up four fingers.

"Four times?" Kate said, laughing. "A serial offender, huh?"

Gibbs chuckled, nodding. "Let me clarify, though…the last three were disasters. Huge mistakes."

"And the first?"

"Wasn't." Kate caught the brief shadow that flickered across his face and shut down that particular line of questioning.

"Do you have any kids?" She was genuinely curious about this one, as she knew that it was entirely possible that he had children very close to her in age.

"I had a daughter," he said quietly, looking away.

Kate noted the use of the past tense and was quiet for a moment. She felt as though she had inadvertently intruded on something very private and was chagrined. She looked away, disconcerted, and Gibbs noticed. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "It's just not something I'm used to talking about. Maybe…" he paused. "Maybe we could talk about it another time." She nodded, mollified, and reached for her bag again. She emerged with a bottle of Aleve, and as she tossed two in her mouth and reached for her water bottle, Gibbs looked concerned. "You okay? Got a headache?" he asked.

She smiled ruefully. "I wish. Arthritis."

Gibbs looked shocked. "At your age? Where?"

"Hips, knees…left shoulder," she shrugged. "Gymnastics is hard on the body."

"Mmm," Gibbs nodded in understanding.

"It's not that bad most days," she said. "It's only bugging me now because I've been up on skis. You don't deal with any yourself? How long were you in the Corps?"

"Fifteen years," he said with an understanding smile.

"Fifteen years of Marine Corps PT and your knees aren't thanking you for it now?"

"Well…maybe a little…from time to time," he admitted.

----------

Gibbs really didn't want the day to end. He was sitting on the back of the boat with Kate, and had discovered that this seemingly perfect not-quite-thirty-year-old had arthritis. Such an odd thing to learn at such an early stage in a burgeoning relationship, really. But after what had transpired, why should that surprise him? When she had asked about his marital history, he was shocked to find himself answering honestly, and when she asked if he had children, he spoke of Kelly before he realized what he was saying and wondered what possessed him to do so with a total stranger when he hadn't afforded the same courtesy to good friends he had known for years. Even more staggering was the realization that once the admission was out of his mouth, he didn't regret sharing the information, although he wasn't yet ready to discuss it in more detail. Nothing about this woman seemed typical, and he was pondering this thought when she spoke up. "What are you thinking? You look..." she searched for the right word. "…perplexed," she finally said.

He ducked his head and smiled. "I was actually sitting here thinking that I've never met anyone like you," he said honestly.

"And is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she wondered out loud.

"Oh, it's definitely a good thing. You intrigue me."

"Why is that, J?"

J? He decided he liked it. Two days and she'd come up with her own nickname for him. _Huh_, he thought.

He struggled for the right way to explain what he meant in response to her query. "You're…you're a contradiction," he finally said. "Everything about your accomplishments screams 'Type A': you were a competitive gymnast, Ivy-Leaguer, med student, and now, a successful pediatrician. But in fact, after getting to know you a little, you don't seem Type A at all…I mean, obviously you're a go-getter, but you're so incredibly laid-back. You seem so calm and unflappable."

She grinned. "Unflappable, huh? Glad I fooled you, because when you kissed me last night, I went completely weak in the knees." She dropped her head, laughing. "I can't believe I just said that to your face." He chuckled gently and reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I'm glad I had that effect on you," he said quietly. "And it would be a lie to say the feeling isn't mutual."

She ducked her head, pleased. Going back to his previous observation, she said, "You're right, though—I _am_ an odd duck. I'm extremely driven, as you may have guessed, but I don't stress over things. I don't like stress. As a matter of fact, I absolutely _loathe_ stress. My personal philosophy has always been to do the absolute best that I'm capable of, and let the chips fall where they may. I guess you could say I don't sweat the small stuff. My mom taught me that." She shrugged. "I'd have never called you last night to ask you to dinner if it wasn't for that aspect of my personality. Sure, I was nervous as hell, but I figured I'd rather be rejected than never know. What was the worst that could happen?"

Gibbs squeezed her hand. "I could have been a complete idiot and missed out on this."

She winked at him. "You almost did, remember?"

He rolled his eyes and said, "Crisis averted, thankfully." Then he reached for the sunscreen and said, "Come here. Your shoulders are getting pink." She obediently turned her back to him and closed her eyes with pleasure as his hands moved across her shoulders.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: As I said, I will never hold a story hostage to reviews, but I am curious as to what you think, or if anyone is still with me, so if you have an opinion, please do let me know (and if it is criticism, please make it polite and constructive!). Also, one note—when I named my character, I wasn't thinking of Kate Todd, just in the event that anyone was wondering. I decided to name my red-headed character in honor of my little red-headed daughter…Kate. **

It was late afternoon and neither Gibbs nor Kate seemed in a hurry to get off the water. They stopped at a marina with a dockside restaurant, and Gibbs dashed in to grab grilled chicken salads for their dinner, and when he returned, he found that Kate had tuned the satellite radio to a jazzy Latin music station. They navigated to an out-of-the-way slough to eat their dinner and Gibbs relentlessly peppered her with questions. Did she have siblings? One older brother, she told him. How much older? Five years, and _very_ protective, she said mischievously. What kinds of music did she like? Almost every kind under the sun, he learned. What were her favorite movies? Favorite colors? Favorite foods? Did she have any pets? When the dinner was eaten, Kate opened the cooler and dug out a beer for each of them, and they drank in silence for a moment, lounging on the swim platform, listening to the music and watching the sun slide lower. The late August heat was thick in the air, leaving them warm in their still-drying swimsuits. Gibbs sipped his beer contentedly and watched his date as she leaned back on her elbows, face turned upward, drinking in the warmth of the evening. Her eyes were closed and a half-smiled played about her lips, accenting her already-considerable beauty. Gibbs was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to kiss her and decided not to fight it this time. He leaned up on his left elbow and reached for her waist with his right hand. She opened her eyes and looked at him with quiet surprise, and he pulled her body toward his, making his intentions clear. She rolled toward him easily, without resistance. He slid his right hand up her side, skimming her left breast as he did so, until he reached her neck. His eyes were aflame as he drew her face toward his. Her lips parted and he felt her inhale quickly in anticipation. When his lips connected with hers this time, there was nothing soft or chaste about it. He was consumed with desire for her and wanted her to know it. He kissed her mouth hungrily, parting her lips and tangling his tongue with hers. She responded by gripping his neck tightly with her left hand and wrapping her left leg around his right one, bringing their entire bodies into contact. She was clearly as much in the grip of their mutual attraction as he, and this only encouraged him. He kissed her harder, stroking the side of her neck with his thumb, his breathing becoming ragged. She slid her left hand up to the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair. He felt himself becoming aroused, and when she pressed her hips more firmly against him, he knew that she did, too. He knew he had to stop himself if his "take it slow" plan had a snowball's chance in hell of staying in place. His fingers were grazing the ties of her bikini top at the back of her neck and he knew it would be only too easy to give one gentle tug and have her out of it. This wasn't the time or the place. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, closing his eyes and willing his breath to slow to normal. "Sorry," he said to her, eyes still closed.

"Why?" she said, sounding the slightest bit hurt.

His eyes snapped open. "No, not about the kiss. _That_…um, that I'm definitely not sorry for. I was talking about bailing like that." She waited expectantly. "If I didn't stop right then…well, then I probably wasn't going to."

She smiled and leaned in, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed, but I _will_ say that it's very nice to know that the feeling is mutual. Oh…and it took you long enough," she smirked. "I've been waiting for that all day."

He raised an eyebrow. "Hope it wasn't a letdown," he joked.

"Indeed not," she asserted.

---------

Kate needed to get back in the water, both to cool down and to prevent her from launching a full-body assault on Gibbs. She had never felt such an intense physical connection to any man, and when he had kissed her, she had completely lost her senses and set herself loose on him. She had been thrilled—and aroused—to observe the evidence of his own pleasure at their situation, and keenly disappointed when he had pulled away. So she stood silently and dove into the water as he watched her. She came to the surface, shook the water from her face, and began swimming away from the boat. "Where are you going?" Gibbs called.

"Nowhere," she replied. "Just trying to burn off a little energy. You got me all riled up," she laughed.

Gibbs thought her idea wasn't half-bad, and dove in after her. He swam hard underneath the surface until he caught up to her, and grabbed her leg playfully when he surfaced, making her squeal in surprise. She spun around in the water and shoved his chest. "You scared me to death!" she complained, laughing. "I'd like to make it to thirty, please, so give my heart a rest, ok?"

"Ahh, yes, that. The birthday. You said it was in a couple of weeks?"

She nodded. "September 4th, to be exact."

"You dreading it?"

"No, not at all. On the contrary, I'm looking forward to it, and have been for a while."

Gibbs cocked his head. "And why is that?" Truly, this woman challenged every preconception he'd ever had about women.

Kate thought for a moment. "I think a woman is at her sexiest in her thirties. She's still young enough that her looks haven't started to go, and everything is still where it's supposed to be on her body." At this, she laughed. "But in her thirties, a woman knows _who she is _and what she wants from life. I mean, let's face it: most of us spend our twenties floundering around like a fish out of water, trying to figure out how the hell we grew up so fast and what in the world we're supposed to do with this thing called adulthood. By the time you're thirty, you've more or less got it figured out."

Gibbs nodded in awe. She was incredible. She had a completely different perspective on life than most anyone he knew. And he wanted her to know how intriguing he found her. "You are amazing," he said softly.

She leaned her head to side. "Why is that?"

"You just have an outlook on life—and a self-assurance—that is so unusual for someone your age…and I don't mean to beat the age thing into the ground, but I've just never met anyone like you before, and the fact that you're so young just makes you that much more captivating to me. I can't imagine what it would be like for a man your age to be around you. I'm very nearly intimidated by you, and I'm 21 years older. I can imagine that you would truly unnerve a man your own age."

Kate blushed and then turned thoughtful. "Hmm…that might explain a lot."

"What?"

Kate laughed. "I can't seem to get a date with a guy my own age. Well, no, that's not exactly true. I can get dates, but they don't seem to want to stick around very long…and that's never been a problem, because I've generally never cared enough to _want_ them to stick around, but I _will_ admit to wondering exactly what it was about me that was turning them off…" she trailed off. "I guess I never thought about it from the angle of being intimidating." She seemed displeased with the thought and Gibbs voiced that observation. She answered, "Well, I am who I am and I'm not going to change that. But I don't want to run people off…" she trailed off again.

Gibbs moved closer to her in the water and kissed her lips softly. "Don't be absurd. You are perfect the way you are. If there are those who can't appreciate that, the problem is with them, not you."

Kate breathed out quietly and rewarded him with a small smile. "Thank you," she said softly.

----------

Gibbs and Kate stayed in the water, swimming and playing, for another two hours after the sun finally set. Kate was thrilled to be able to dispense with the constant application of sunscreen and just enjoy the water, and enjoy it she did. She dove off the boat repeatedly, swam circles around Gibbs, and took advantage of a rope swing they spotted a bit further up in the slough. After watching Kate clamber up the bank and make like Tarzan into the river a few times, he decided to give it the old college try himself. Kate very much enjoyed watching the movement of the muscles in his back as he climbed up to the ledge, but that was nothing compared to the enjoyment she derived from watching how his strong hands wrapped around the rope and his biceps flexed when he finally let himself fly off the ledge. He cannonballed into the river and came up laughing as he shook the water from his face and hair.

It was well after dark, as Kate and Gibbs were talking and enjoying the feel of each other, Kate's legs securely wrapped around Gibbs waist as he held on to the swim ladder, when Gibbs realized that Kate was cold. Really cold. She was shivering rather violently, as a matter of fact. "Kate, you're freezing," he said. "C'mon, let's get out," he said, as he started to turn to climb up the ladder.

"N-n-no," he said, teeth chattering. "It'll be so much colder if I come up out of the water!" she complained.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "God, you sound like a ten-year-old. What, hypothermia makes your level-headedness go straight out the window? Kate, your lips are blue, for God's sake. Let's GO." His tone left no room for argument. She unwrapped her legs from around him so he could start up the ladder. When he reached the swim platform, he turned around to reach down for her. She was on the bottom step, clearly miserably cold. He reached down and grabbed her under the arms and hauled her out of the water quickly, before she could object. She found herself distracted by her front-row seat to his flexing biceps, and she was wrapped in a clean, dry beach towel before she knew what was happening. Gibbs was still standing there in just his swim trunks, his arms wrapped tightly around her to keep her warm. "Cabin," she said tersely. "There's a heater." Gibbs steered her toward the bow, grabbing his own towel on the way, opened the hatch to the cabin, and gently nudged her down the steps. He followed behind her, closing the hatch behind them as he went. Kate slapped at a switch, turning on the heat, as she stumbled, hunched over against the low ceiling, toward the bunk nestled in the bow of the boat. She pulled open a compartment, removed a sweatshirt, and turned her back to him, dropping the towel swaddled around her. She knelt on the bunk and pulled roughly at the ties holding her bikini top in place, seemingly oblivious to Gibbs' presence. As her top dropped to the bunk in front of her, Gibbs stared for a moment at the pale, smooth skin of her bare back, and then cleared his throat. "Uhh…you want me to leave?" he asked.

"No," came her curt reply. She tugged the sweatshirt over her head, and when she raised her arms, Gibbs got the barest glimpse of the side of her right breast. When her sweatshirt was in place, she grabbed a thick blanket and gestured for him to join her on the bunk. He approached her, and she held open the blanket, indicating that he should get underneath it. He complied, and she joined him, spooning herself up against his chest and pulling his arms around her under the blanket. "Thanks," she said in a low voice. "I hate being cold."

Gibbs chuckled. "I hadn't noticed." She was still shivering a bit, and he tightened his grip around her, trying to transfer as much of his body heat to her as possible. As he waited for both of them to warm up, he looked up at the clock in the cabin and was shocked to see that it was 10:15 p.m. They had spent twelve full hours on the water. He closed his eyes in contentment as he relaxed against her. She found his hands against her stomach and laced her fingers through his; in response, he once again kissed the back of her neck, this time allowing his lips to linger for a few moments. Bit by bit, her shivering ceased, and as they grew more comfortable, their legs tangled together under the blanket, drawing their bodies even closer together, if possible. Few words were exchanged as drowsiness took hold of them, and before either of them realized what was happening, they were asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks so much for your feedback on the last chapter. I really appreciate knowing how you feel about where this story is going. I hope you continue to enjoy.**

Gibbs awoke with a start from a dream of which he had no memory. For a moment, he had no clue where he was, but upon realizing that his body was wrapped around Kate Andrews, the previous day flooded back. He glanced up at the clock in the cabin and jerked up to a sitting position, startling Kate out of a deep sleep. "Shit," he hissed. "We fell asleep. It's 3 a.m.!"

Kate peeled open an eye and shrugged. "Who cares? You have somewhere to be?" she mumbled sleepily.

"No…" he said slowly. "So, what…you just want to stay out here overnight?"

Kate peeled the other eye open and rolled over to face him. "Jethro, my happy ass isn't going _anywhere_ at 3 a.m., so unless you want to swim back to the marina, get your ass back down here and put your arms around me again."

Gibbs smirked. "You're so charming when you're sleepy. Shouldn't you be used to being woken up in the middle of the night by now?"

Kate rolled back over. "I'm a pediatrician, not an emergency room physician working third shift in the ghetto on a Saturday night," she grumbled. Then she added, "_That_ was a shitty rotation, by the way," making Gibbs laugh out loud. He threw the covers off and headed toward the cabin door. "Where the hell are you going?" she muttered.

"I'm still in wet swim trunks, if you hadn't noticed. If I'm going back to sleep, I'd like to do it in dry clothing. So I'm going to get some shorts."

"Hey," she mumbled. "While you're up there, will you grab the shorts that are in my bag? I've still got half my swimsuit on, and it's still wet, too."

He emerged from the cabin and was struck by the beauty and stillness of the river in the moonlight. He took in the scenery for a moment, and then reached into his bag, pulling out a pair of grey shorts. He picked up her big canvas bag and opened it up, looking inside. Seeing a pair of black cotton shorts, he pulled them out, and returned to the cabin. "You still awake?" he said softly.

"Mm-hmm," she murmured sleepily.

"Found your shorts. Here you go," he tossed them toward the bunk, where she was lying with her back to him. She located them and proceeded to push her swimsuit down, under the covers, and tug the shorts on in its place. "Come back to bed," she pleaded. "I miss you."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "You're awfully honest when you're sleepy," he chuckled.

"You want honest? If I wasn't so damn sleepy, I'd tell you to come back to bed naked," she muttered without moving. "Now get your ass back over here," she ordered.

He laughed, amused at 'sleepy Kate.' "Hold your horses," he said. "I've still got to change."

"Be quick about it," she said.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and tugged his swim trunks down as he watched her lying there. The back of her head was the only thing he could see peeking out of the tangled blanket, and her braids were hopelessly wild, but he still thought she was beautiful. As he pulled the dry pair of shorts on, he wondered how hard it was going to be to intentionally go to sleep next to her without doing anything about the enormous sexual tension that was building between them. He sighed internally and slipped back under the covers next to her, winding his arms around her midsection once again. She exhaled with pleasure as she felt him return to her, and he smiled in response. She felt amazing in his arms, no doubt about it. At that moment, she flipped over and took his face in her hands, kissing him gently. "Thank you," she whispered. "It is _much_ more pleasant lying here _with_ you than without you." She ran her hands down his neck to his chest. His pecs tightened as he involuntarily shivered at her touch. He closed his eyes.

"Not helping, Kate."

"Hmm?" she questioned.

"I don't suppose you've considered how…difficult…it is for me to lie in bed, half-naked, with an insanely beautiful young woman and just…do nothing about it?" he asked, not unkindly.

"Mmm," she said, understanding. "And, just out of curiosity, why exactly _aren't_ you doing anything about it?" she wondered.

"Well, first of all, because you said you were too sleepy, although you seem to have changed your mind on that point. But the main reason is because I've _always_ been far too quick to jump in the sack and my feelings for you are strong enough already that I want that not to be the case with you. I think you deserve better than that, and as much as I would love nothing more at this moment than to have you naked underneath me—"he swallowed hard, fearing he had said entirely too much, then decided to go for broke—"I want to be able to walk away from our first lovemaking experience knowing that I acted as a complete gentleman and that, regardless of the outcome in the end, you will have no regrets." He ended his impassioned speech by forcibly clamping his teeth together before he could say anything else.

Silence filled the cabin for a moment. Then Kate breathed, "Wow. Are you trying to make me fall in love with you? Because, well…it might be working." She gave a tiny quiet laugh. The heavy moment past, she said, seriously, "You're right—I didn't consider how difficult this might be." She paused. "Do you want to go back to the marina and head home?"

"No," he said firmly. "I want to lie here and go back to sleep with you in my arms. I was just making a point, that's all. Don't get any ideas," he instructed playfully. "I don't know how strong my self-control is."

"Deal," she said, rolling back over. He once again wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Thanks for keeping me warm," she whispered.

"My pleasure," he whispered back.

----------

The morning light streaming through the hatch above him woke Gibbs up. He extricated his hands from Kate's body and rolled onto his back, noting that the clock read 7:40. The cabin was warm; between the heater, the blanket, and Kate's body, Gibbs was drenched in sweat. He gently rolled away from Kate and out from beneath the blanket, trying not to wake her, but it was no good. She yawned and stretched her arms and legs, elongating her body as she rolled over toward him. Her blue eyes opened, clear and refreshed. "Good morning," she said, smiling. Then she ducked her head, embarrassed. "Sorry if I was snippy last night. I tend to lose track of my manners when I don't have enough sleep. It's the worst part of being a doctor, for me. Anyway, sorry to have bitten your head off." She paused. "And thank you for being a perfect gentleman," she said in a low voice.

"You're welcome and you have nothing to apologize for. I rather enjoyed getting a glimpse of your feisty side," he said. Changing the subject, he said doubtfully, "Um, I don't suppose you have an extra toothbrush just, you know, lying around?"

"Would it surprise you if I said that I actually do?"

"Nothing you do surprises me anymore, but that would probably come pretty close."

"You're in luck," she said, hopping off the bunk and moving toward the hatch, where there was a small sink with a cabinet beneath it. "I keep two or three extra toothbrushes just in case I ever have people out and we end up staying out all night." She beamed as she handed him a packaged toothbrush and a travel-sized tube of toothpaste. He grinned as he took them from her and watched her pull out her own toothbrush. They brushed their teeth in companionable silence and then Kate said she was going to put her swimsuit back on, as it was too hot for a sweatshirt. Gibbs went on deck and waited. Two minutes later he heard her call, "Um, J? Can you help me for a minute?"

Gibbs went down into the cabin and found Kate sitting on the bunk, bikini bottoms in place, but holding her bikini top against her front with her left arm. "Umm…can you tie this for me? My left shoulder is really acting up, and I can't get my arm up high enough to tie it," she said sheepishly.

Gibbs stepped forward and she turned around. He reached for the ties, and asked in a concerned voice, "Is that normal?"

"Well…I've never had it be this tight in the morning before, but then again, I did sleep on my left shoulder all night long, and I never do that. That could be it." She paused. "I'm not entirely convinced it's just arthritis. I've been wondering for a while now if it's my rotator cuff," she said thoughtfully. "I mean, I _do_ have arthritis in my shoulder, but there may be something else going on. I just dread the thought of having surgery again." She shuddered. "Miserable."

Gibbs finished with the ties and she adjusted the top with her right hand as she turned to face him. "Thanks," she said gratefully.

They emerged on deck, squinting their eyes against the bright morning sunlight. It was a gorgeous Sunday morning, and without speaking, they both seemed drawn to the swim platform to lounge for a few minutes.

Gibbs asked Kate if she needed sunscreen, and Kate replied that she was okay for a little while, until the sun rose above the treeline. "Looks like you could use some, though," she observed. "I think you were a little too concerned about me and not enough about yourself yesterday. You're pretty red," she noted. They sat in silence for some moments, Gibbs gently massaging Kate's left shoulder, before he realized that Kate was repeating yesterday's pattern of trying to decide how to ask him something.

"What is it, Kate?" he asked, smiling.

"Dammit, J, will you stop doing that?" she said, mostly joking. She paused, and Gibbs waited. Finally, she twisted around to look at him and said, "About my birthday…I wanted to make sure that Allison wasn't going to do something absurd like try to throw me a surprise party, so a few weeks ago, I headed her off at the pass and suggested a big dinner party instead, so there wouldn't be any surprises." She paused. "So… we're doing a big thing at Charlie Palmer Steak on the 4th. I love any excuse to dress up and go out on the town, and my thirtieth birthday seemed as good a reason as any… I know it's kind of…soon…but I would love it if you'd be my date." She laughed. "The other partners in my practice are two forty-something men who are worse than women about constantly trying to hook me up with this person or that person or their great Aunt Ethel's next-door neighbor... They'd be thrilled to see me show up with a date…probably everyone else, too," she snickered, before realizing she was rambling in her nervousness. She took a deep breath to stop herself from continuing. "So…are you interested?"

She looked at him doubtfully and was pleased when he nodded and said, "Of course I am. I'm glad you asked. Anything in particular you'd like?"

"Oh, no, don't get me a gift," she pleaded.

He rolled his eyes. "You're going to get a gift, whether you like it or not, so it might as well be something you like. What do you want?" he asked again.

Kate sighed. "Can't you just…I don't know…take me out one night…dinner and dancing, maybe? Like I said…I love any excuse to get dressed up." She smiled. "One would think that, living in Washington, one could find plenty of black-tie events to attend, but…" she trailed off, grinning and shrugging, and Gibbs knew at that moment _exactly _what she was getting for her birthday. He changed the subject. "Who…all will be there?"

Kate shrugged. "Lots of people—Allison and John, of course, my partners and their wives, some college friends, some other friends…"

"Your parents?"

Kate stared him down. "You scared?" she teased.

"Not so much scared as…cautious. How old is your dad?" he asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"Sixty-two."

"And your mom?"

"Fifty-seven." At this, Gibbs winced. "What?" she asked.

"Your mom only has six years on me," he sighed. "What will they think?" he asked honestly.

"I don't know," she answered, equally honestly. She turned serious. "I know that once they see that I'm happy, they'll be happy, too. But you're right—it may a shock, initially. Don't worry, I'll, uh, give them a heads-up so it won't be a surprise." She huffed out a laugh. "I'm sure once Dad hears you're a fellow Marine, he'll be right on board."

"And your overly protective big brother?"

"I'm sure you can take him," she deadpanned. Gibbs was not amused.

She rolled her eyes at him. "J, it'll be fine. I mean, yeah, he's probably not going to be thrilled, but luckily for us, he is _also_ a Marine—an officer at Quantico—so he'll probably realize that sucker-punching you will amount to conduct unbecoming," she snorted.

"Not funny, Kate."

"Yes, it was, and you know it." She rolled her eyes again. "He'll probably have a sarcastic comment or two to make and that'll be it." She paused. "Are you having second thoughts about coming?"

"No, of course not. I just want to have an idea of what to expect."

She nodded. "Okay. I'll talk to my parents and my brother and make sure they won't be surprised." The sentence was punctuated by a very loud growl from her stomach and she grabbed her midsection and blushed. "Oops," she said. "Guess that means it's breakfast time."

"Can I take you to breakfast?" Gibbs asked.

She smiled. "That sounds great. Where?"

"Wherever you like. But can we swing by my house so I can grab a shower and a change of clothes first?"

"Only if you'll swing me by my house so I can do the same."

He agreed, standing up and tugging Kate to her feet.

----------

An hour later, Gibbs was leading her through his front door and she was getting her first glimpse of his home. She liked it immediately. It was warm and masculine, and…_him_.

"Give me ten minutes," he said, releasing her hand and heading down a hallway. "Make yourself at home," he called over his shoulder.

Kate looked around, taking the living room in. She wandered over the bookshelf and perused the titles. Classics, military histories, the odd biography here and there. The leather couch was well-worn but beautiful and looked incredibly comfortable. The coffee table had two newspapers and a _Sports Illustrated_ on it, along with a couple of unopened pieces of mail. She wandered toward the fireplace and it was here that Gibbs found her, staring intently at a framed picture of Shannon and Kelly on the mantel, when he emerged moments later. "Hey," he said softly, and she turned quickly, not quite guilty, but feeling again as though she had intruded where she should not have.

"Hey," she returned. She took one last look at the picture, then moved toward him, determined to keep her curiosity in check until he felt ready to share. "You look handsome," she murmured. "That color looks great with your eyes." He was wearing a light blue polo shirt with khaki shorts, and the Top-Siders remained on his feet. His hair was damp and he smelled like soap and cologne.

"Thanks," he said softly, and she had the distinct feeling that he wasn't referring to the compliment she had paid him.

"You ready?" she asked, smiling brightly. "I'm in desperate need of a shower."

----------

When they arrived back at Kate's house, it was nearly eleven o'clock, and she told him that she would try to be quick about it. She invited him back to her bedroom so he could keep her company while she got ready. He lounged on her bed and flipped absently through the channels of her TV as they talked through the mostly-closed bathroom door. He heard her shower door open and close, and distracted himself with an episode of _Mythbusters_ while he waited for her to finish. When the shower door opened again, he turned the TV off and tossed the remote aside, rolling onto his back. He laced his fingers behind his head as he lay back against her pillows, thinking hard. She appeared in the doorway, wrapped in a towel, her red hair falling wet and wavy over her shoulders. "How about Cracker Barrel?" she said, her mind on food.

"They were murdered," he answered, staring at the ceiling.

Kate froze. "What?"

He looked at her. "The picture you were looking at. It was my first wife, Shannon, and our daughter, Kelly. They were murdered."

Kate was frozen in the doorway, eyes wide. She said nothing. She had no idea how to react, so she didn't.

"Kate?"

"I—" she faltered. "I have no idea what to say. Oh, my god…I'm so sorry." She seemed genuinely horrified. "What happened? Wait, no…I'm sorry. That is none of my business," she said firmly.

Gibbs had rolled onto his left elbow and spoke to her softly, his face stoic. "No, I want to tell you." She moved to the bed and sat down on the edge, steeling herself for the story. He looked down. "It happened in 1991—I was on tour in Kuwait, and Shannon witnessed a murder. She and Kelly were taken into protective custody, and while they were in custody—" he paused, collecting himself. "While they were in custody, the agent who was driving them was shot in the head. They were killed in the resulting wreck." He swallowed hard. "Kelly was only eight years old." He looked at Kate's hands and saw that they were shaking, though her face was expressionless. He shook his head, as if to clear it of the memory. "I just…I just thought you should know."

Kate suddenly looked up. "Did they catch him?"

Gibbs leaned back again, hands behind his head. "Nope," he said, very nonchalantly.

Kate's eyes narrowed. "You don't sound concerned," she said, suspicion evident in her voice.

He didn't answer.

"Did you kill him?" she asked, her tone making it plain that she already knew the answer to this question.

He rolled over once more and looked into her eyes. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but couldn't stop himself. "Would you think less of me if the answer was yes?"

She was silent for a moment, and then suddenly laughed. Her gaze never wavered from his eyes as she said, "Jethro, my father was a sniper. And I was seventeen years old before he told me the truth about his career in the Marine Corps. It took me months to reconcile the image of the loving father that I knew with the image of a man who could kill in cold blood with government blessing. But once you are able to accept that someone you love is a purveyor of legalized murder, you learn to separate who they are from what they do." She paused. "J, if I can accept the fact that as a sniper, you were able to kill people who had never personally wronged you, why on earth would I begrudge you the decision to take the life of the man who took your wife and child from you?"

And that's when Leroy Jethro Gibbs knew he was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

On Monday morning, when Agent Gibbs approached his desk after delivering Abby's Caf-Pow to her lab, Ziva, DiNozzo, and McGee were already present. DiNozzo and McGee had their backs to Gibbs, and although Ziva saw Gibbs coming, she allowed Tony to continue his recitation of the "Wuv…twoo wuv" scene from "The Princess Bride" uninterrupted, and gave a hearty laugh when Gibbs stealthily approached and slapped the back of Tony's head. "Don't you have some work you could be doing, DiNozzo?"

Tony rubbed the back of his head as Ziva and McGee got back to work. "Uh, yeah, Boss. Hey, how'd you get the sunburn?"

"I stayed out in the sun too long. Any more brilliant questions?"

"Uh, no."

"What's the story on the file from the Lewis investigation? Is Baltimore P.D. sending it over?"

"Uh, yeah, Boss. Should be here by mid-morning."

"Ok, let me know when that—" Gibbs was cut off mid-sentence by the beep of an incoming text message. DiNozzo wrinkled his eyebrows together. As far as he knew, Gibbs had never received a text message before. When Gibbs smiled tenderly at what he read and began to deftly tap out a reply, Tony reached behind him and snapped his fingers to get Ziva and McGee's attention. When they looked up at him, he nodded toward Gibbs, who was oblivious to the entire exchange.

When Gibbs finished his message, snapped his phone shut, and wordlessly stood and left the room, Ziva, Tony, and McGee looked at each other in amazement. Tony was the first to speak.

"He can text?"

----------

Five minutes later, McGee walked into the break room to grab some coffee and came to a dead stop. Gibbs was standing at the counter, his back to McGee, and it sounded like he was ordering flowers. McGee stood there long enough to discern that his boss was ordering orange roses before he spun around and got the hell out of dodge.

----------

McGee sat at his desk and looked around him to ascertain that no one was looking his way. He turned back to his computer and Googled "meaning of orange roses." He clicked on the first website that came up and saw the following words: _Desire, enthusiasm, and passion. Fascination._

Timothy McGee leaned back in his seat and allowed a sly smile to spread over his face as he looked over at his boss, who was sitting at his desk looking pissed about paperwork.

----------

Kate was slammed. She hadn't stopped moving all day, and was in her office hurriedly gulping down a container of yogurt and a bottle of water between patients when one of the receptionists carried in a vase of flowers with a smug smile.

"What's this?" Kate said, surprised, although she had little doubt who they were from. The receptionist just grinned and placed the vase on Kate's desk.

Kate slowly set her yogurt cup down and looked at the arrangement. Roses. _Orange _roses. She hadn't known there _was_ such a thing, but they were stunning. She counted them. Twenty. It seemed like an odd number. She felt like there was a deeper meaning there, but she didn't have time to find out just then. She stood, reaching for the card. She freed it from its envelope and a smile spread across her face as she read the typed message:

_Lovely Kate,_

_Thank you for the most enchanting weekend I can remember._

_I look forward to spending more time with you._

_--Jethro_

Kate replaced the card and looked longingly at her phone. She wanted to call and thank him, but her next patient was expecting her, and the waiting room was full. With a sigh, she headed out the door of her office.

----------

Four hours later, Kate collapsed back into her office chair, exhausted. One of her partners was on vacation, which always made things tough, but the other partner had gone down hard with a stomach virus, so she was flying solo in a three-person medical practice. It was going to be a long week.

She had notations to make in charts, along with plenty of dictation, but she wanted to find out about the roses first. She reached for her laptop and typed her terms into Google. Clicking on what looked like the first good link, she felt her heart speed up a bit as she read about the symbolism of orange roses. She followed another link to find about the significance of the number of roses, and clicked on "_twenty_". She felt giddy as she read the words, "_My feelings for you are genuine._"

Kate reached for her phone.

----------

Gibbs, DiNozzo, Ziva, and McGee were sitting at their respective desks, bouncing ideas off of one another regarding a dead-end investigation when Gibbs' phone rang. He looked down at it, smiled, and swiveled his chair around so that his back was to his co-workers before he flipped it open. Rather than answering with his customary, "Gibbs," he simply said, "Hey," in a quiet voice. The last thing his co-workers heard before he got up and left them sitting there was "It was my pleasure."

Ziva and DiNozzo looked at each other, eyebrows raised in surprise. When they looked over at McGee, he had a look on his face somewhat akin to the expression of the cat that ate the canary.

DiNozzo rolled his chair over to McGee's desk and stared him down. "You know something about that, don't you, Probie?"

McGee leaned back in his chair with his fingers laced together behind his head. "I don't know anything," he said.

"You lie. Spill."

McGee smirked. "All I know is that I walked into the break room this morning and overheard Gibbs ordering a very large bouquet of orange roses, and then I turned around and got the hell out of there before I could get slapped for eavesdropping."

"Orange?" DiNozzo said, looking confused. "Why orange?"

"Funny you should ask, because I wondered the same thing. I looked it up, and it turns out that orange roses symbolize desire, passion, and fascination, if I remember correctly."

"Now that is very interesting," said Tony with a sly look on his face.

"Tony, watch it," Ziva warned. "Getting into Gibbs' business is only going to give you a headache."

----------

Gibbs and Kate were unable to see each other over the next couple of days, due to the responsibilities of their respective jobs, but they spoke every day at least once and made plans to have dinner at Gibbs' house on Wednesday. Gibbs was very much looking forward to cooking dinner for her, so he was dismayed and alarmed when his phone beeped at noon on Thursday with an incoming text message: _Have to bail on dinner. I'm sorry. Got bug. Can't stop throwing up. Rain check?_

Gibbs immediately stood up and grabbed his coffee cup. "DiNozzo, I'll be out the rest of the day. Don't call me unless it's an extreme emergency."

With that, Gibbs turned and exited the building, leaving Anthony DiNozzo staring after him, wondering what the hell had happened to his boss.

----------

Gibbs called Kate on his way out of the building. "Hey," she said when she answered, her voice raspy. "I'm so sorry about tonight. I really wanted to see you…" she trailed off, sounding pitifully sick.

"Well, you're in luck," he answered. "I'm coming over. What do you need?"

"J, no. You'll get sick if you get anywhere near me. Don't come," she pleaded.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Kate, I'm coming over. Tell me what you need."

Kate's shoulders slumped in defeat as she held the phone to her ear. She didn't have the strength to argue with him. "I'm very dehydrated. I can't even keep liquids down. Can you stop by my office? I'll have them leave something at the desk for you."

"On my way," Gibbs said softly.

Gibbs hopped in his car and made a beeline for Kate's office. Walking in the door to the waiting room, he approached the receptionist and said, "I'm supposed to pick up something for Dr. Andrews…" The receptionist nodded and handed him a bag. "Tell her to feel better soon, please," the receptionist instructed. "She looked horrible when she left this morning." Gibbs nodded and thanked her, hurrying out the door.

He stopped by his house for a change of clothes, and grabbed Gatorade from his fridge, along with chicken broth and Jell-O from his pantry, and was pulling into Kate's suburban neighborhood a few minutes later.

When she opened her front door to him, Gibbs was appalled. She looked like hell. He entered without waiting for her to ask and took her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. "You look awful," he murmured. "What can I do?"

She squeezed him feebly. "Nothing," she said as she turned and shuffled toward the couch. He followed her. "Put a movie in?" she requested faintly.

"Sure…what do you want?"

"Something light-hearted…with no food in it," she said, making him laugh.

He opened her entertainment center and perused the DVD titles. "Mmm….How about _Ghostbusters?_" he said with a smile.

"Sounds good," she said weakly.

Gibbs got the movie started and handed her the bottle of Gatorade, along with the bag he had picked up at her office. Kate twisted the cap off of the Gatorade and drank a few sips cautiously. She sat for a moment, waiting, and then settled in next to him. Within five minutes, Gibbs felt her stiffen beside him, and a moment later, she bolted for the bathroom, Gibbs on her heels. Kate gripped the sides of the toilet as she vomited violently, and Gibbs held her ponytail back over her shoulder and rubbed her back soothingly. As soon as her heaving subsided, Gibbs released her and began digging in the cabinet for a washcloth. He found one and held it under cold water for a moment, waited for Kate to rinse her mouth and led her back to the couch. He settled her against him once again, and held the cold washcloth to her head. She was wearing nothing but a thin tank top and cotton shorts, but she still seemed overheated. Her skin was covered with a fine sheen of sweat.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"Go away…you're going to get sick," she complained weakly, in answer.

Gibbs chuckled. "Kate, shut up."

"I'm serious. I'm used to this. It's part of the job for me. I'm going to feel awful when you get sick," she warned.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a big boy. I'll be okay, Kate. What do you need me to do?"

She pointed toward the bag from her office. "Give me that. I've got to have some fluids."

Gibbs reached for it and handed it to her. She tore it open and removed a bag of saline solution, tubing, an IV needle, a roll of tape, alcohol swabs and a syringe. He watched in fascination as she inserted the IV into her right arm and taped it into place. She placed the bag of saline solution on the back of the couch and let gravity work its magic. She removed the cap from the syringe, tugged her shorts down to reveal her right hip, and poised the needle over her skin. Her hands were shaking weakly, so Gibbs reached over and gently pried the syringe from her hand. He stilled her hands and plunged the needle into her hip, pushing the plunger down slowly. He withdrew the needle and applied pressure with his fingers. "What did I just give you?" he asked, almost as an afterthought.

"Phenergan," she replied anemically. "In about five minutes, if it does its job, I'm going to be comatose. Just warning you." She leaned against him, tucking her legs underneath her, and he put his arm around her, careful not to disturb her IV. "I'm so tired," she sighed. "I just want to stop throwing up and go to sleep. This week has been hell so far." She closed her eyes. "Sorry, I'm being whiny."

"Shh," he quieted her. "You're not being whiny—just honest. You really _have_ had a rough week so far. Just relax. Do you need anything?"

"I don't think so," she mumbled against his shoulder. "Thanks, by the way, for bringing the IV bag and the Phenergan.

"I'm glad I could do something to help," he said sincerely.

"Oh, that's better," she said then, a weak smile on her face.

"What is?" he asked.

"The Phenergan is kicking in," she mumbled drowsily. "The nausea is easing a little bit." Gibbs could barely hear her. She was fading fast.

Sure enough, two minutes later she was sound asleep against him. Gibbs turned the TV off and tossed the remote aside, took the IV bag between his teeth, and scooped Kate into his arms as gently as possible. She stirred just a bit but did not awaken as he stood with her, careful not to pull her IV loose. He carried her to her bedroom and smiled when he saw the vase of orange roses on her bedside table. She had left her bed unmade, and he was able to slide her into place without waking her. He pulled the comforter back, leaving her covered with just the sheet. He walked through her bathroom to the walk-in closet and emerged with a wire hanger, attaching the IV to it and hanging it from the bedpost. He looked at the clock. It was only 2:30. He hoped she would sleep all the way through to the next morning. Gibbs exited Kate's bedroom and went to the kitchen, where he prepared the Jell-O and left it in her fridge to chill. He emptied the chicken broth into a plastic container so that it would be ready to go when she needed it. This he also placed in the fridge, next to the bowl of Jell-O.

He then went back over to the couch and decided he would finish watching _Ghostbusters_ to pass the time.

----------

An hour later, Gibbs tiptoed back in to Kate's room to check on her. She was in exactly the same position he had left her in, and the bag of saline solution was empty. He deliberated for a moment before deciding to remove the IV so she wouldn't be tethered while she slept. As carefully as possible, he removed the tape and slid the needle out of her vein, applying pressure with his thumb to stem the bleeding. She never moved. After a moment or so, he released his thumb and brushed his fingers across her cheek. She was exceptionally pale, with dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was damp and matted around her face, but she was beautiful. He silently shook his head as he realized he had known this woman for precisely six days, and he was fairly certain he was falling in love with her.

----------

Gibbs occupied himself for the next several hours by watching movies on Kate's flat screen, stopping to rummage through her fridge for the makings of a light dinner—he figured it might be smart to eat delicately for the next day or so. He threw together a small salad and read through the copy of _Time_ on the counter as he ate. He checked again on Kate; she continued to sleep heavily. At ten o'clock, he picked up his overnight bag and went into her bathroom to change into a t-shirt and shorts; he thought about sleeping on the couch, but that seemed pretentious; they had already shared a bed once, so what did it matter if they did so again? Besides, if she woke up sick he wouldn't hear her from the living room. He opted for the bed, gently pulling the covers down and lying down next to her.

He awoke at 6:00 the next morning, and Kate still slept. She had curled up somewhat during the night and her color was a bit better, so Gibbs felt confident that she was on the mend. He rose and went into her bathroom to get ready for work. He felt odd about using her shower, but short of going home—and he didn't want to leave her until she had awakened and he felt reassured that she was better—he didn't have much choice.

He shaved and showered quickly, and after he had toweled off and slipped on a fresh pair of boxers, he poked his head out into the bedroom, only to find her dark blue eyes looking back at him.

"Good morning," he said softly, smiling. "How do you feel?"

"Much better," she said, her voice scratchy. She paused. "Thank you," she said, and her voice was thick. "It meant a lot that you stayed."

Gibbs smiled back at her wordlessly and nodded.

"You'll be sick by tonight," she warned, her blue eyes grave. "And I'm going to feel really badly about it, too."

He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It was worth it to be here with you." He meant it.

And ten hours later, as he stood in the men's bathroom at NCIS, vomiting what was left of his lunch, he still meant it.


	10. Chapter 10

Gibbs threw up twice more before his stomach was empty enough that he thought he could make it home. It was just after five and he didn't relish the thought of hitting Beltway rush-hour traffic, but he didn't see where he had much of a choice. He was exiting the parking lot when his phone buzzed. It was Kate.

"Hey," he said.

"How are you feeling?" she asked warily.

"Well, I wish I hadn't bothered to pay five bucks for a turkey sandwich at lunch, but I'll be okay."

Kate groaned. "I _told_ you I was going to feel horrible."

"It was worth it to see you again. I would have just spent the day worrying about you if I hadn't come over."

"I question the sanity of a man who thinks that a stomach virus is a fair price to pay for the pleasure of my company." This elicited a weak laugh from Gibbs. She flipped into doctor mode. "Are you able to hold down liquids?"

"I don't know. I haven't tried yet. I wanted to get home first."

"How's the nausea now?"

"It's pretty bad. I may have to pull over in a minute." He paused. "Yep. Call you back." He pulled into a parking lot and barely got his door open before he started vomiting. There wasn't much in his stomach other than water and acid, but he heaved for a good thirty seconds anyway. When the retching subsided, he took a deep breath and leaned his head back on the headrest. He rinsed his mouth with a bottle of water, spat, and resumed his drive as he called Kate back.

"Sorry about that," he said when she answered.

She sighed. "I'll meet you at your house."

"Kate, I'll be _fine_," he asserted.

"Shut up," she said, and hung up.

----------

Twenty minutes and one more stop later, Gibbs pulled into his driveway behind Kate's car. She was standing on his porch, waiting.

Gibbs got out of his car and looked at her in disbelief. She was wearing a black button down shirt with gray slacks. "You _worked_ today?" he asked incredulously.

"I went in around noon," she shrugged. "Dan's just recovering from his own stomach bug and I didn't want him to have to handle it all alone today." She shrugged again. "It was no big deal."

Gibbs shook his head. "And you question _my_ sanity."

They had no more than walked in the door when a new wave of nausea rolled over Gibbs and he dashed for the bathroom. Kate followed behind and stood in the doorway as he retched fruitlessly. When he was finished, she said, "J, you've got nothing left—you're just dry heaving. You've got to let me give you something for the nausea." He nodded weakly and motioned for her to follow him. He walked toward his bedroom, kicking off his shoes along the way. In his room, he shrugged out of his shirt and, seemingly oblivious to her presence, kicked off his pants and proceeded to collapse on his bed, clad only in boxers and socks. Kate dropped her bag off of her shoulder, carrying it to his bed. She sat down next to him and rubbed her hands across his bare back. "Here, I'm going to give you some Phenergan, ok?" He grunted his assent and she pulled the syringe and an alcohol swab out of her bag. She tugged his boxers down, exposing his right hip. Swiping it with the alcohol swab, she joked, "Well, I had hoped to get you out of your pants for the first time in a slightly more romantic setting, but I guess this will have to do…"

She plunged the needle into his hip and he muttered, "Yeah, this wasn't exactly how I pictured it going, either."

She laughed and then leaned down and kissed his shoulder. "Do you want to try to drink something?" she murmured.

"No," he moaned.

She laughed quietly. "Still think it was worth it?"

At that, he rolled over onto his back and looked at her with clear eyes. "Yes," he said, reaching up and caressing her face. Her heart skipped a beat in response.

"Lie back, love," she whispered. "I'm going to hook you up to some saline." Gibbs weakly offered his arm and Kate searched for a vein as drowsiness overtook him.

----------

Kate was thankful that the Phenergan took effect quickly and that Gibbs fell asleep within moments. She placed the IV and then stepped into his bathroom to change clothes. She left her work clothes in a heap on the floor and changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt before she re-emerged. It was only 6:30, but her energy reserves were sapped. She fell into the bed beside him, wrapped her body around his, and was sound asleep in moments.

She reawakened at 4 a.m. and lay there for quite awhile watching him sleep, the light from the bathroom falling across his face. She was struck by how different he looked while sleeping. The lines on his forehead and around his eyes had relaxed, making him look ten years younger. A lock of his silver hair fell across his forehead, giving her a vague idea of what he might have looked like as a boy. She studied his lips. She had kissed him only a handful of times, but it had been enough to make her want more. His lips were perfect and full and she allowed herself a brief fantasy of what they would feel like trailing kisses down her stomach. She knew it had only been a week, but she was falling for him—hard. She sighed quietly as she wondered to herself where all of this would end up. She honestly didn't care about their age difference, but she knew that it did present some practical challenges, not the least of which was the reaction her parents were going to have when they found out that her—what was he? Boyfriend? That seemed juvenile. They weren't lovers—not yet. Her significant other? Kate shook her head. She didn't need to label it. They were what they were, and that was good enough for her. But what would her parents say?

----------

Kate sat in bed making chart notations in the dim light for a couple of hours before she decided to go ahead and start stretching. She had downplayed her issues with arthritis to Gibbs because she was, by nature, not a complainer, but truth be told, her morning stretching ritual was the only thing that got her through the day most of the time. She moved to the floor at the foot of the bed and opened her legs in a wide v. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she bent forward, placing her chest and face on the floor. She held the pose for a few seconds before Gibbs' voice made her jump.

"Good to know you're still so flexible."

She laughed and sat up. "Well, you must feel better to be inserting double entendres into casual conversation so early in the morning."

He grinned. "Yes, I am. Thank you," he said sincerely. He picked at the tape holding his IV in place, and Kate hopped up.

"Here, let me," she said, approaching him. She sat next to him on the bed and smoothly removed the IV. She felt Gibbs staring at her as she was applying pressure to the inside of his elbow.

"What?" she asked, self-consciously. "Does it hurt?"

"No," he said, his gaze never wavering.

"Then what?"

"I'm thinking about how much I would like to kiss you right now, but I think I should probably brush my teeth first."

Kate laughed out loud. "Me, too, but I have to finish stretching first."

Gibbs gave her a questioning glance.

She shook her head ruefully as she sat back down on the floor. "If I don't stretch in the mornings, I end up needing something a lot stronger than Aleve by the end of the day."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "For fifteen years, I put my body through more than most people do in a lifetime. I don't regret it," she said quickly, continuing, "Gymnastics was my first love, and it not only taught me discipline, it paid for my education at an Ivy League school. But I did a lot of damage in the process." She shrugged again. "I just have to make sure I stretch in the morning to loosen up, especially if I'm working that day." She placed her legs together in front of her and folded herself over so that her nose was touching her knees.

Gibbs winced. "Ow," he said, turning for the bathroom.

Kate grinned and continued stretching.

----------

Gibbs brushed his teeth and showered while Kate finished stretching, and when he emerged from his bathroom pulling a thin v-neck knit shirt over his t-shirt, she looked at him disapprovingly. "You're going to work?" she said with a frown.

"You worked yesterday," he pointed out.

"Only half a day, and there's no way on earth I would have gone in if Jay wasn't somewhere in the damn Caribbean on a cruise ship. I didn't want to leave Dan holding the bag when he was just getting over the same bug himself."

"I promise to sit at my desk and do paperwork unless somebody dies," he said, rolling his eyes. "I really feel okay. I'm not ready to try eating, but I feel okay."

She sighed. He was an adult; he could do as he pleased.

She hopped to her feet. "Care if I borrow your shower?" she asked.

"Of course not," he replied. "Clean towels in the closet."

----------

Kate took her time showering, allowing the hot water to knead her muscles as she considered whether or not it was appropriate that she found the idea of using his shower very erotic. After ten minutes, she reluctantly stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a clean towel. She combed her hair and left it damp and wavy. She dressed quickly and applied minimal makeup before she emerged. She found him in the kitchen looking warily at a bottle of Gatorade.

"Hey," she said. "You thirsty?"

"A little," he admitted. He looked at her fitted navy blue t-shirt and casual khaki pants in surprise. "Are you working today?"

She grinned and replied, "Casual Friday." She paused, looking at his tan shirt. "At this risk of being entirely too forward, you look fantastic in that shirt." He gave her the crooked smile she loved in response.

Gibbs finally decided to attempt the Gatorade and when he hadn't thrown it back up after twenty minutes, Kate gave him the all-clear to go to work. They left the house, Gibbs kissing her tenderly on his front porch before they got in their separate cars with the promise of meeting back at his house after work so he could cook her dinner as originally promised.

----------

Dinner that night was a low-key affair: homemade vegetable soup and French bread. Gibbs managed only a few bites of his soup before pushing his bowl away. Kate ate slightly more; her hunger was ravenous, but she didn't want to overdo it. As Gibbs was clearing away the dishes after dinner, Kate asked him if he had any plans the next morning.

"Not yet," he replied with a smile.

"Do you think you'll feel well enough to go out on the boat? Allison, John, and Hannah are going to come out for a few hours. I'd love it if you'd join us." Gibbs nodded. "Good. Pick me up at nine."

**A/N: Crappy chapter. Sorry. Next one will be better. Promise. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks to jtbwriter for the input on one key part of this chapter. **** Seriously, I appreciate you! And, for everyone else…I found this chapter difficult to write, so don't be too harsh, 'k? Thanks. **

Gibbs and Kate pulled into the marina parking lot and found the Jackson family already waiting for them. Gibbs held out his hand as he approached Allison's husband. "It's good to see you again, Commander Jackson. I'm glad it's under better circumstances this time."

Commander Jackson smiled. "Likewise. And please, call me John."

Gibbs nodded. "Jethro," he responded.

Gibbs reintroduced himself to Allison, as well, and then bent over with his hands on his knees to say hello to Hannah, whom he was meeting for the first time. "Good morning, Hannah," he said with a smile. "My name is Jethro. Are you excited about going on the boat?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" Hannah exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down. Gibbs grinned and stood up, taking Kate's hand in his. The cooler with food and drinks was loaded onto the boat, the group boarded with their belongings, and soon they were on their way.

As they ran downriver, Gibbs found himself thoroughly enjoying the antics of Hannah, who was excited to have fresh blood in her captive audience. She made faces, sang songs, and danced around the helm as Kate drove. A few minutes later, Kate slowed and asked Hannah with a grin if she wanted to ride on the tube. Hannah jumped up and down with glee, and so a few moments later, she was lying on her belly, nestled between her mom and dad on the tube behind the boat.

John waved to signal Kate that they were ready, and Kate accelerated. Gibbs was sitting next to her with his chair swiveled around to face the stern. He watched the little family tubing and asked Kate, "How is she doing? Will she have any long-term trauma, do you think?"

Kate answered without looking at him, her eyes on the river ahead. "Allison brought her in to see me yesterday for a follow-up. Her urinary tract infection is cleared up, and her genital area is pretty much healed, so physically, she'll be fine. I asked Ally about Hannah's emotional state, and she said that Hannah really seems to be okay. They had a hard time trying to decide how to explain Duke's death to her, but when they finally did tell her, she didn't really react that much, so they're not sure whether she really understands. I think Allison's going to have her do a few sessions with a child psychologist, just to make sure there's not something deeper going on, emotionally, but if I had to guess, I'd say she's young enough that she'll eventually forget all about it."

Gibbs nodded. "Good," he said. "And John? How's he dealing with all of this?"

Kate frowned. "That one's a little tougher. He's not so much mourning Duke's death as he is the realization that his brother isn't the person that John thought he was. He's having a hard time reconciling his grief over losing his brother with the fact that his brother sexually abused his daughter. Hannah is John's little princess, so this has been torture for him. I think he'll be all right, though."

The Jacksons remained with them until early afternoon, when Kate took them back to the marina so they could get to a birthday party that Hannah was attending. Goodbyes were said and soon Gibbs and Kate were back on the water looking for a good spot to stop and take a swim. Finding a nice inlet with plenty of shade and no other boats, they threw out anchor and prepared to get in the water. Kate removed her cover-up, revealing a pale lavender bikini that made Gibbs' teeth sweat. This one was a bit skimpier than the previous weekend's edition, and Gibbs inspected it appreciatively. As he pulled his shirt off, he stepped forward, took her face in his hands, and pressed his lips to hers in a blazing kiss that left her gripping his waist and breathing heavily. When he finally broke the kiss, he kissed along her jaw line to her neck, and with his lips just below her left ear, he whispered, "You are incredibly beautiful." She closed her eyes and allowed her head to roll back as he kissed her neck. He continued, between kisses, "This is happening so fast…but I can't help it. I've never connected with someone so quickly before. I can't stop thinking about you…and I don't want to." He pulled back and looked into her eyes. They were smoldering with unconcealed desire. She clenched his sides as she breathed, "I'm glad it's not just me. I don't think you've left my mind since you first walked into my office." He sighed with pleasure and pressed his lips to hers once again. She broke the kiss a moment later and said, "C'mon. Let's get in the water…I could use some cooling off," she said wryly.

She ran her hands down his chest and then stepped away from him, diving smoothly into the water. Gibbs followed and they spent the next half hour swimming before Kate decided that she wanted a drink. "You think your stomach can handle a beer?" she asked.

He considered. "I'll give it a shot. We'll see."

She climbed up the swim ladder, Gibbs on her heels, and dug two beers out of the cooler. They sat on the long seat on the back of the boat, drinking in silence for a moment, and Gibbs suddenly realized that Kate looked nervous. Really nervous. He didn't voice his observation, instead choosing to wait until she was ready to share whatever was on her mind. A few more moments passed, and she took a deep breath and lowered her beer.

"I've been thinking about my birthday, and, um…I know what I want." Gibbs raised his eyebrows and looked at her expectantly. She sucked in a lungful of air and when she spoke again, her voice was shaking. "I want you to stay the night with me." He locked eyes with her and nodded, making clear that he understood the part of her request that she left unspoken. She gulped down some more of her beer. "But…there's something else I need you to know." She paused, swallowing hard again, and Gibbs took a long drink from his beer, wondering what had her wound up so tightly. She took another deep breath, and he saw that her hands were shaking. "I'm, uh….I'm actually a virgin."

Gibbs froze, bottle at his lips. He blinked once, hard. Slowly, he lowered the bottle from his lips and swallowed the beer in his mouth, thankful he hadn't choked. He stared at her and said in a low voice, "You're… a virgin."

She looked at him, both nervous and amused by his reaction. "I am."

It took him a moment to come up with a response. Finally, he said, "How is that even possible? You are…beautiful, intelligent, intriguing…" he trailed off, bewildered. "And you want…me…"

Kate sighed. Sharing this information with him had taken all of her courage, and she was worried about his reaction. "Look," she said. "I just haven't dated all that much—I mean, when have I had the time? Let's see," she started ticking things off on her fingers. "In high school, I got up at four a.m. and was in the gym until eight, when I left to go to school for a few hours. I was back in the gym by 2 o'clock, and stayed until six, when I went home, wolfed down some dinner, did homework, and crashed so that I could do it all over again the next day. College was the same, except longer hours in the gym and a demanding Ivy League course load. Then came medical school." She rolled her eyes. "Right," she snorted. Then there was my residency—eighty hour workweeks, and then when that was over, trying to establish my practice." She shrugged. "I mean…sure, I've dated here and there, but besides the time factor, until now I've really never found anyone that I cared to see more than once or twice." She paused, searching for a way to explain it. "And the more time that passed, as I realized I was an anomaly amongst people my age, sure, it bothered me a little bit, but it seemed stupid to sleep with somebody I didn't care about just for the sake of losing my virginity. I just…" she paused, looking down. "I just never have found someone that I felt was worthy enough to have that part of me…" she looked him in the eye now, "until I met you."

Gibbs was speechless.

She looked at him apprehensively. "Please say something, J. You have no idea how hard it was to tell you that."

At her words, Gibbs' face relaxed from its frozen look of surprise, and he moved toward her on the seat. He took her face in his hands and kissed her slowly, then said, "You are amazing, and brave, and probably the sexiest woman alive. I have no idea why you care for me, but I am so glad you do."

----------

Kate watched Gibbs carefully as he drove back to her house from the marina. He seemed deep in thought. She felt a like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders now that she had told him what she needed to, but she wondered what was going through his mind now. She had a feeling that her admission had rattled him more than he had let on. "J," she began, "Are you still thinking about our conversation from earlier?"

He looked over at her. "Yes," he said candidly.

"What are you thinking?" she asked earnestly.

"I'm thinking that I suddenly feel a lot of pressure where I didn't feel any before," he said.

Kate was surprised. "Why is that?" she questioned.

He laughed. "Kate, you've never slept with anybody before, and _I_ get to be the first one? That's a hell of a lot of expectation to live up to," he said, sounding both amused and tense.

Kate couldn't help but laugh. "Wait, wait. You're the one that's worried about expectations? That's a little backward, don't you think? How many women have _you _slept with?" she asked rhetorically.

Gibbs paused. "More than I care to remember," he said, shaking his head.

"Then perhaps you can see where I might conceivably be the one who should be nervous about expectations?" she said playfully. "Seriously, J, I have no idea what it is that I have to live up to as far as _your _sexual experiences are concerned. I, on the other hand, _have_ no expectations, so you can relax. Besides…I thought men generally enjoyed the idea of bedding a virgin…?" she trailed off, unsure.

"Sure," he said in a low voice, nodding. "Most probably do. I, on the other hand, am already slightly insecure about our age difference. Quite honestly, I wonder what you see in me as it is, and the thought of being your…well…your first lover is a little intimidating," he said, smiling his crooked smile. He turned serious then. "Plus," he said quietly, "I'm worried about hurting you."

"Worried about _hurting_ me?" Kate said. "Why?" She paused and then continued before he could answer. "J, I'm sorry, but it can't hurt _that _much. I've heard a lot of stories from other women about the pain of childbirth, but I don't think I've ever heard a single story about the excruciating pain of losing one's virginity. I'm sure it's uncomfortable for a moment, but it can't be that bad. Besides," she snorted, "when it comes to pain…I've, uh…_I've got a tolerance,_" she finished teasingly, pointing to the long, white scar on her knee.

He looked at the scar and shook his head. "I still don't want to hurt you," he said in a low voice.

Kate laughed. "There's something you need to see that I think will put your mind at ease."

----------

Gibbs and Kate walked in her front door and deposited their bags on the floor. Kate went to her entertainment center, located a DVD, and tossed it to Gibbs. "Let's have a look at this, shall we?" she said, her voice full of mirth.

Gibbs looked at the disc. The case had a picture of a young—probably teenage—Kate in a leotard, and was titled "Kate's Greatest Hits." He raised his eyebrows.

Kate laughed. "My brother put this together for me a few years ago. We have video of all my competitions, of course, but there's quite a bit of video from practices, too." Her eyes twinkled. "Will decided awhile back that he would present me with a collage of all my greatest wipeouts." She winked at him. "It's a classic. Wanna see?"

Gibbs grinned in spite of himself. "Sure."

Kate laughed again and inserted the DVD.

Gibbs watched, intrigued, as the title came on the screen. A moment passed, and Gibbs smiled as the Surfaris' greatest hit, "Wipeout," began to play and he got his first glimpse of a very young Kate—"I was ten there," she said with a grin—missing a landing on the vault. "Ouch," he said, wincing, as he watched her under-rotate right onto her belly on the mat behind the vault.

The video montage continued, showing footage of Kate wiping out on every apparatus, at every age. He watched her mature from a gangly ten-year-old to a more experienced sixteen-year-old to an athlete competing at the collegiate level, and he was amazed at the level of discipline she displayed. He observed her reaction as she landed the tumbling run that cost her her ACL as a thirteen-year-old; he watched as she missed a simple back handspring on the balance beam as a college freshman; that mistake resulted in a dislocated left shoulder, she whispered in his ear as he watched. The Kate he saw on-screen was stoic, reacting minimally to what he was sure must be excruciating pain. She grinned by side when he winced as he watched her miss a release move on the bars, slamming her face into the high bar ("Broken nose," she murmured.). The carnage continued for another minute or so before the video—blessedly—came to a close with a series of clips of Kate executing perfect dismounts from the bars, beam, and vault, and landing a perfect tumbling run on the floor. As the screen went black, Kate turned to Gibbs and smirked. "See? I think you can relax. I'm fairly impervious to pain at this point."

Gibbs had a pained look on his face. "Yeah. Apparently," he muttered.

She leaned toward him. "_Seriously,_" she whispered in his ear. "Stop worrying." She punctuated her statement with a sensuous kiss to his neck, making him shiver. "And by the way," she murmured, as she continued kissing his neck and throat as he tangled his hands in her hair, "I didn't mean to give you the impression that I'm completely inexperienced sexually. I'm not." At this, he pulled back and looked at her. She continued, "I only said I was a virgin, not that I was a total prude when it comes to the, ah, pleasures of the flesh," she said, laughing lightly.

Gibbs studied her. "I suppose that makes me feel a little better," he said in a low voice before he claimed her lips with his own.

----------

The next few days passed quickly, and Gibbs made the final arrangements for Kate's gift, and on Wednesday, the one night they both had free that week, he cooked dinner for her at his house. After they ate, they moved to the living room and as Gibbs sank down on the couch, he saw Kate looking once again at the picture of Shannon and Kelly. Her next words shocked him.

"Tell me about her," Kate requested quietly. "What was Shannon like?"

Gibbs was speechless for a moment. Kate picked up the picture and moved to the couch with it, settling herself against the arm of the couch with her feet resting on his left thigh. She studied the picture for a moment more and then looked up at him. "Or am I overstepping my bounds?" she asked when she didn't get a response.

"No," he said quietly. "I was just surprised. I don't think another woman has ever asked me that question before." He paused again and then smiled wistfully. "She was a lot like you in some ways, and not at all in others. She was sort of an old soul for being so young when we met, and she saw things very clearly. She loved life. And she was strong." He shook his head fondly at the memory of her. "But she was also feisty and had to have the last word in an argument," he grinned. "Sometimes she didn't fight fair, but she could always admit later that she had been wrong. She—" Here, he paused, as if unsure whether he should continue, then plunged ahead. "She was a passionate lover and an incredible mother. Kelly adored her." He stopped before he became emotional.

Kate nodded. She ran her finger along the picture. "She was beautiful," she said appreciatively. "…And the red hair? Is that just a coincidence, or…?"

Gibbs smiled, understanding the question. "No. I like red."

"And Kelly?" she murmured. "What was your little girl like?"

Gibbs swallowed hard and then shook his head. "I can't," he said in a tight voice. "Not unless you want to see a grown man cry this evening," he whispered.

Kate nodded. "It's okay," she breathed. "Sorry."

Gibbs shook his head. "Don't apologize," he said in a low voice. "I'm glad you want to know about them." He took her right foot in his hands and began massaging gently, pleased when her head lolled back in pleasure. Kate, for her part, placed the picture of Shannon and Kelly to the side and surrendered herself to his strong hands.


	12. Chapter 12

Kate awoke at 5:45 on the morning of her birthday to the sound of her cell phone ringing. She groped for it on her bedside table and pried one eye open to see the caller ID. She smiled and answered.

"Hey," she said with a sleepy smile in her voice.

"Happy birthday," came his gentle murmur.

"Mmm…" she answered, her smile growing. "Thank you. I don't feel thirty. More like sixty," she grunted as her shoulder popped when she stretched. She heard him chuckle quietly.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Mmm-hmm," she answered, stretching.

"Good," he said. "I need you rested up for tonight," he said, and she could hear him grinning.

"Damn," she muttered under her breath. "Don't hold back, J, tell me how you really feel."

He gave a deep laugh, making her skin tingle. "Get your mind out of the gutter. I was talking about the…dancing."

"Mm-hmm," she said sarcastically. "Sure you were. I'm pretty sure I can kick your ass on the dance floor," she laughed, propping herself up on her elbows. She enjoyed flirting with him over the phone; the brief nature of their relationship made their flirtations all the more intense.

"We'll see about that," he returned easily. There was a pause, and then he said quietly, "Did you talk to your parents last night?"

She paused, stretching under her comforter. "Mm-hmm."

"And…?" he fished.

She sighed sleepily. "My mom was…amazing," she said. "She said she could hear it in my voice, how…happy I am," she said bashfully. "She can't wait to meet you, actually," Kate said, ducking her head. "She told me not to worry about my dad, that she'd handle it…." She trailed off. "I don't know what exactly to expect from him, but I think it'll be okay…"

"And Will?" Gibbs asked.

Kate was silent for a moment.

"And your brother?" Gibbs pressed.

"Will…is difficult," Kate said with hesitation. "Yes, I spoke to him last night." She swallowed. "And yes, he was…skeptical….as to your motives." She took a deep breath. "But I told him that if he couldn't get on board with this, then he could stay home tonight." She paused, hesitating. "I told him that I cared more for you than anyone I'd ever…gone out with before…and that if he couldn't be supportive and polite, that he shouldn't come…" She was quiet for a moment. "He finally told me that he would see me tonight…so I guess he's going to play nice…" the tone of her voice led Gibbs to believe she was doubtful.

"You don't sound convinced," he said.

She paused. "Well…it's not like I think he'll make a scene or anything…but I just don't want any tension on what is _supposed_ to be a really fun evening." She rolled over and rubbed her face with her hands. "I'm sorry…I feel really stupid about this whole thing—like I'm a high school girl bringing somebody home to meet my parents, so I can't even begin to imagine what this feels like for you…" she trailed off, doubtful.

"Worth it," he replied.

"Thank you," she said softly.

There was a pause. Then he said, "What exactly did you tell them?"

"I told my mom that I was bringing a date to my birthday dinner, and that I wanted them to know in advance so it wouldn't come as a surprise. And then I told her that I'd been seeing someone for the past couple of weeks, but that he was a little older."

"A little?" Gibbs asked, laughing.

"Exactly," she said, chuckling. "My mom said, 'define a _little_ older, Katherine,'" Kate said, imitating her mother's voice. "So I told her twenty-one years, and she actually took it really well. I told her that you were a Marine and that now you work for NCIS, and she said she was looking forward to meeting you and that she would instruct my father to be a gentleman."

"Did you tell her I was a sniper?"

"No…It didn't come up. Besides, Dad will probably enjoy hearing that from you…a little Marine bonding," she snickered.

He laughed with her. "What was his rank at retirement?"

"Gunny," she said. "What were you?"

"Gunny," he answered. "At least he doesn't outrank me," Gibbs grinned.

There was a moment of silence, and then Gibbs smoothly changed the subject, "About tonight, as far as protection goes—"

"I'm on the Pill," she said. "Is that good enough for you?"

"Good enough for me," he said easily. "Go get ready for work. I'll pick you up at 6:15 tonight."

----------

By ten a.m. another bouquet of roses had arrived on Kate's desk, only this time they were red and there were thirty of them.

Kate didn't need a translation this time.

The attached card was hand-written, in Gibbs' neat, masculine script.

_Kate,_

_Happy birthday, Love._

_I'm looking forward to this evening._

_-J_

Kate shivered with anticipation and replaced the card.

----------

At 4:00, Gibbs closed the file he was reading and motioned for Tony to come to his desk. He stood up, grabbing his coat and coffee mug. "DiNozzo," he said in a low voice, "I'm leaving for the day. You're in charge from now until Monday morning. _Do not call me_ unless it is a matter of life or death or national security. Is that clear?"

DiNozzo gave Gibbs a strange look. "Monday's Labor Day, Boss."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Fine. You're in charge until Tuesday. Got it?"

"Got it."

Gibbs left the building, leaving Tony staring after him.

----------

At 6:15, Gibbs was pulling into Kate's driveway. He glanced in the mirror to be sure his tie was straight and then walked toward her house, leaping lithely up the stairs to the porch. He approached the door, rapped twice, and then stood back, waiting. A moment later, the door swung open, and he inhaled sharply when he saw her standing there. She was wearing a strapless black dress that hugged her body and came to just above her knees, and her shapely legs were bare all the way down to her simple black heels. Her hair was pulled back into a smooth, elegant knot at the base of her neck and her only jewelry consisted of simple pearl earrings and a single strand of pearls around her neck.

She had never been more perfect.

Gibbs stepped forward, smoothly caressing her lips with his own and then stepped back to look her over again.

"You look…." He searched for the right word, "exquisite," he finished, shaking his head.

"Thank you," she said demurely. "You look incredibly handsome yourself," she said. She thought he was breathtakingly tantalizing in his crisp white dress shirt and sky blue tie. She reached up and slid her hands around his shoulders, pulling him toward her. She inhaled his scent as she pressed her lips to his jawline. "I am a very lucky woman to have you as my date tonight," she whispered.

Gibbs sighed with pleasure as her lips continued their journey and her hands caressed the back of his neck, and then he groaned, "And if you want to leave this house tonight, you better stop that now."

She gave a throaty laugh and reluctantly pulled back, punctuating her actions with one last kiss to his throat. "Are you ready to go?" she asked.

"Yes," he said in reply. He watched, admiring her legs as she retrieved her evening clutch and placed her phone and keys inside it. He was very much enjoying her choice of attire; the strapless dress left a large expanse of magnolia white skin visible on her chest, shoulders, and back. He briefly imagined feasting his lips across that skin before jerking himself back to reality. There was the party to get through first. The rest would come soon enough.

----------

Anthony DiNozzo sat at the bar at Charlie Palmer Steak, waiting for his flavor of the week to return from the powder room. He sipped his bourbon and looked around, taking in his surroundings. As he glanced toward the maitre d' stand, he came to a dead stop, bourbon glass frozen at his lips. "Whoa," he whispered under his breath. His boss was standing at the podium, his arm wrapped securely around one of the most beautiful women DiNozzo had ever seen. She was young, she was shapely, she was—"No way," DiNozzo muttered as he recognized his boss's date as the young pediatrician that had been seated in their interrogation room, giving a statement only two weeks prior.

----------

Gibbs and Kate entered the restaurant, Gibbs with his arm locked tightly around Kate's waist. They approached the maitre d's podium and Kate informed him they were here for the private party. As they were led to the rooftop terrace where the party was taking place, Kate murmured, "You nervous?"

Gibbs smiled at her and said, "Maybe just a little." She squeezed the hand that was resting on her right hip as they exited the building into the warm night air. "Wow," he whispered as he took in the view of the Capitol building. His ruminations were interrupted by exclamations of "Kate!" and "Happy birthday!" from the twenty or so guests who had already arrived.

Kate grinned and waved back, and then gestured across the terrace, murmuring, "My parents are over there. Let's do this." Kate took Gibbs' hand and squeezed gently as she led him toward her parents. Gibbs observed them as he and Kate approached. Kate's father was the same height as Gibbs, with an athletic build, and everything about him screamed "Marine." Kate's mother was a beauty who was simply an older version of her daughter, with dark red hair and fair skin that had aged magnificently. Gibbs stood back as Kate embraced her parents.

"Katherine!" her mother exclaimed. "Honey, you look radiant." She gazed knowingly into her daughter's eyes for a moment and then continued, "Happy birthday, sweetheart," hugging Kate once again. She released her and Kate's father hugged his only daughter.

"Happy birthday, Baby," he said warmly. "You look wonderful this evening."

"Thank you," Kate said, stepping back. She took Gibbs' hand and took a deep breath. "Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Jethro Gibbs."

Gibbs stepped forward and shook Kate's mother's hand. "It's a pleasure, Mrs. Andrews."

She smiled warmly and said, "Don't be absurd. Call me Laura. I'm so happy to meet you."

Gibbs turned to Kate's father. "It's nice to meet you, Sir," he said, hand extended.

Kate's father shook his hand firmly and fixed him with a polite but reserved smile. "Likewise," he said in a voice that indicated that his mind wasn't yet made up. He continued. "My wife tells me you spent some time in the Corps."

"Yes, Sir. Fifteen years."

"Indeed. What was your MOS?"

"Scout sniper," Gibbs said evenly, enjoying the reaction he received from Kate's father. Rich Andrews' head swiveled slowly toward his daughter and he muttered, "You forgot to mention that part, sweetheart," leading his daughter to give a hearty laugh.

"Oops," she said, smirking. "Thought I'd give you two something to, uh, _chat_ about," she said in a sassy voice, laughing as she turned back to her mother.

Rich Andrews clapped Gibbs on the shoulder and said, "Come on, let's go get a drink," steering him toward the bar. Gibbs released Kate's hand and shot her a grin as he left her standing with her mother.

----------

Kate's father approached the bar and ordered scotch on the rocks. Gibbs followed with an order of bourbon, straight up. They sipped their drinks and exchanged Marine Corps stories for a few minutes until Kate started across the terrace toward them. Her father lowered the drink from his lips and said in a low voice, "Look, I'm not going to give you a lot of grief about this. Katherine's an adult and I trust her judgment. I'll just say this one thing: make sure you treat my daughter with the respect and care that she deserves." His voice contained both acceptance and the barest hint of warning, and Gibbs nodded. "You have nothing to worry about on that count, sir."

As Kate approached, her father held out his hand to Gibbs once again, and said, "Good. And please, call me Rich."

----------

The cocktail hour progressed, and as more guests arrived, Gibbs had the opportunity to meet the other doctors in Kate's practice, Jay and Dan, along with their wives. They were, as Kate had predicted, thrilled that she had come with a date, and quizzed her unabashedly about how long she'd been seeing Jethro behind their backs. They were friendly and engaging and Gibbs liked them immediately. It was clear that they were both fond of Kate and that she felt the same way, bantering with them and teasing them right back.

They mingled for a few more minutes, and they were standing in conversation with Allison and John Jackson when Kate leaned in and murmured that Will had arrived. Gibbs followed her gaze and saw a young couple greeting Kate's parents. "Wife?" Gibbs asked.

Kate answered with a snort of contempt. "Girlfriend. My brother's a commitment-phobe. He and Sarah have been together at least five years, but he refuses to propose. He's wasting her life and she's a really great girl," she shook her head. "Come on," she muttered, pulling Gibbs away from the Jacksons with an apologetic glance in their direction. "Let's get this over with," she muttered under her breath.

Gibbs laughed. "Relax, will you? It'll be fine."

Kate approached her brother with a grin. "Kate!" he greeted her enthusiastically. "Happy birthday!" Kate hugged him tightly and then hugged Sarah, as well.

"Thanks for coming, guys," she said warmly. She took Gibbs by the hand as she introduced them. "J, this is my brother, Will, and his girlfriend, Sarah Murray. Guys, this is Jethro Gibbs." She shot her brother a Look that clearly said, "Play nice," as Gibbs shook Sarah's hand and then reached for Will's.

Will complied and shook Gibbs' hand with a polite smile. "Nice to meet you," he said in a neutral tone. "Kate tells me you were in the Corps?"

"Yes. I was in for fifteen years."

"MOS?"

Gibbs had a sense of déjà vu. "Same as your dad's, actually."

"Really?" Gibbs sensed a grudging respect on Will's part. "Where did you see action?"

"Kuwait, Panama, a few covert operations here and there…Afghanistan, Colombia, and so forth," Gibbs replied easily. "Kate said you're at Quantico? What's your MOS?"

"I'm an electrical engineer. I work on a team developing…" As Will proceeded to fill Gibbs in on his job, Gibbs noticed Kate visibly relaxing next to him, and he squeezed her hand as if to say, 'See? I told you it would be fine.'

----------

After dinner, the guests continued mingling as the small band that Allison had hired finished setting up their equipment. Kate and Gibbs were taking in the magnificent view of Washington from the edge of the rooftop terrace when Gibbs pulled Kate into his arms, lacing his fingers together at the small of her back. When she looked up into his eyes, she was startled to see that his eyes were burning with intensity. "Have I told you," he asked softly, "that you look beautiful this evening?"

A smile spread across Kate's lips in response.

Gibbs removed his right hand from her back, leaving his left hand holding her firmly, and took her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. "And have I told you," he asked in a barely audible whisper, "that I love you?"

Kate's dark blue eyes were large as she whispered back, "Why, no. No, you haven't, actually."

"I love you," he repeated softly, pressing his lips against hers in a tender kiss. When he pulled back, she was smiling gently at him.

"That's quite convenient," she whispered. "Because as it just so happens, I love you, too." She gave a whisper of a laugh. "And here I thought I was going to have to be the first to say it."

Gibbs smiled and reached into his pocket, removing a small, flat box. The box was wrapped in silver paper and tied with a dark blue ribbon. "Happy birthday," he said, handing it to her.

She looked at him with surprise as she took the box. "I thought I told you I wanted you to stay the night as my gift."

He gave her a scornful look. "Yeah, that's more like a gift for _me,_" he laughed under his breath. "Just open the box."

Kate slipped the ribbon from around the small box and tore the paper off. She opened the box and looked at what was inside, and then glanced back up at Gibbs with wide eyes. "Wow," she whispered.

Inside the box lay two tickets to the Commandant's Marine Corps Birthday Ball.

"Is that black tie enough for you?" he said with a grin.

"Wow," she repeated. "How'd you pull that off? These tickets are impossible to get, even months ahead…and it's only two months away."

He was still grinning. "The SecNav owed me one."

Kate's mouth fell open and then her face began to spread into a slow grin. "This is…" she murmured, "…one of the best birthday gifts I've ever received." She looked up at him, her face shining. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "I can't wait. I've always wanted to see what the Marine Corps birthday ball was all about." She beamed at him. "I have a feeling it will be a night to remember," she winked.

Gibbs grinned and kissed her gently. "You're welcome."

----------

Rich and Laura Andrews looked at their daughter and her date as the couple stood in quiet conversation at the edge of the terrace, taking in the view of the city. Gibbs had his arm around Kate's waist and smiled at her as they spoke softly.

Laura turned to Rich. "You better get used to the idea of him," she said quietly. "He's not going anywhere."

Her husband glanced at his daughter, and then back at his wife. "How can you be so sure?"

"Watch the way he looks at her. He adores her. And she's just as bad. Have you ever seen her look at anyone that way before? She loves him," Laura said quietly.

Rich sighed. "I can see that. I'm just not sure what they see in each other. It's such a large age difference."

Laura laughed. "You can't help who you fall in love with, Rich."

He sighed again, and then wrinkled his nose as he watched Gibbs kiss his daughter. "I guess you're right. They do look happy, don't they?" he asked reluctantly.

"Understatement, Rich," his wife laughed. "Understatement."

----------

Will approached as the music was starting and asked Gibbs if he minded sharing the birthday girl for a dance. Gibbs agreed graciously, and as Will whisked Kate away, she asked Gibbs if he'd get her another glass of champagne. Gibbs nodded in assent, and as he advanced on the bar, he was joined by a smiling Allison. Gibbs put in his request for drinks, and as he waited, he leaned back against the bar, Allison by his side.

"You see how she's glowing?" Allison asked in a quiet voice. Gibbs watched as Kate spun around the dance floor in her brother's arms. A wide smile lit her face and she did indeed have a glow about her. He nodded as he gazed at her.

"That's _all_ you, buddy," Allison said. "I've _never_ seen her like this before." She paused, seeming conflicted. "Look, I'm not trying to play the bitchy, overprotective best friend here, but if you fuck this up, I will hunt you down," she said, only half-joking.

"I have no intention of fucking this up," he said sincerely.

"Good." Allison nodded firmly. "Do you love her?" she asked, searching his eyes.

Gibbs didn't hesitate. "Yes."

Her next question took him by surprise. "Are you going to marry her?" she asked, point-blank, staring at him.

He paused for a moment, and then returned her gaze. "Maybe," he murmured. He knew it was too son, but he had been struggling with that very question already; the fact that she would be his fifth wife seemed to cheapen the idea somehow, and he didn't like that.

"Don't waste her time, Jethro," Allison warned seriously. "I mean it."

"I don't intend to."

Allison pressed on. "She wants children one day."

Gibbs nodded. "I figured so."

"And…"

"And you think I'm too old?" he asked, amusement in his eyes.

"No. I don't."

"Then what?"

"The question is whether _you_ think you're too old," she said evenly.

Gibbs blew out a breath. He tore his eyes from Kate and stared Allison down. "Allison…" he started. He appreciated that she was looking out for her friend, but the only person he felt comfortable going down this road with was Kate. He took a deep breath and shut down the line of questioning: "Allison, this is a conversation that really needs to take place between Kate and myself." He turned as the bartender delivered their drinks, thanked him, and walked toward Kate, leaving Allison at the bar, looking after him thoughtfully.

Gibbs approached Kate just as the song was ending and swept her from her brother's arms into his own, handing her the glass of champagne in the process. He inhaled sharply as he pressed their bodies together and murmured, "I'm not sharing you anymore. You were away from me for entirely too long."

"Agreed," she whispered quietly. "Mmm," she murmured happily as the band began to play _Unchained Melody._ "Very romantic, don't you think?" she said quietly.

"Unquestionably," he replied, holding her more tightly as they swayed to the music.

"So what was Allison giving you the third degree about at the bar?"

"Saw that, huh?"

"Mm-hmm. You going to answer the question?" she asked mildly.

"She's just looking out for you," Gibbs replied.

Kate stopped dancing and pulled back from his embrace. In her heels, she was nearly the same height as Gibbs, and she looked exasperated as she gazed into his eyes. "Look, J…I don't know what she said to you…I don't know what _anyone_ has said to you tonight. But I need you to know that regardless of what anyone else says or thinks, I have _no_ questions in my mind about us. Yes, it's only been two weeks, I've never been in love before, blah,blah,blah…" She smiled and then turned serious again. "But it's hard to question something that feels so right," she said solemnly.

He secured her within his arms once again and pressed his lips against her ear, whispering, "My thoughts exactly."

She responded with a small sigh of contentment, and then lightened the moment by pulling back just enough to get a glimpse of him in his dress shirt and pants, running her fingers along his tie. "You know," she murmured, "You look so damn good tonight that it's really rather a shame that you're going to have to come out of this shirt in a little while."

"Why the anticipation?" he teased. "You've seen me practically naked before," he said in a low voice.

"Big difference between practically and totally," she smirked. "And besides, I wasn't _doing_ anything about it before," she clarified.

"Ah," he said. "Thanks for clearing that up." He paused, taking in the view of her bare chest and shoulders. "Funny, you should mention that," he said with a sly grin, "because I've been thinking all evening that if you look half as good out of that dress as you do _in_ it, we are both in big trouble later tonight."

"You're in big trouble later tonight, anyway," she whispered seductively into his ear as the song came to an end.

**Sorry for the delay. Been working on this chapter like crazy…couldn't get it quite right. Heading out of town with the family and some good friends this afternoon for the New Year, but of course I go nowhere without my laptop, so I'll try my best to be working on the next chapter while I'm gone. Happy New Year to all, and my personal message to the year 2009: don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out, buddy.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thanks to Bamacrush for her feedback on this chapter. You are such a cool friend! **** I tried to use your favorite song as inspiration in the sensuality department when writing this chapter! **

**Additional note: As I've said before, I haven't written for NCIS before, so I don't know what is commonly accepted. This is TAME by CSI standards, but I'm not sure if the same can be said for NCIS standards. If anyone thinks I need to up the rating, please let me know rather than flagging the story to FF. Thanks! **

The party continued until midnight, and despite his earlier assertion, Gibbs did indeed share Kate several more times, as everyone wanted a dance with the guest of honor. Gibbs, for his part, surprised Kate by dancing with both Allison—who apologized for sticking her nose where it didn't belong—and Kate's mother while Kate was otherwise occupied.

Laura Andrews grinned as she allowed Gibbs to sweep her into his arms. "Did my husband give you a hard time?" she asked with a smile as he led her across the dance floor.

"No more so than any other father who loves his daughter," he said mildly as he spun her into a turn.

"I'm sorry," she said with an apologetic smile. "When it comes to Katherine, Rich is as fiercely devoted a father as I've ever seen. He just wants what's best for her." She paused, watching as Gibbs and Kate made eye contact across the dance floor and shared a smile. "But," she continued as Gibbs turned his attention back to her, "All night, I've seen the way you look at her, and I've seen how she looks at you, and if your interactions are any indication of how you feel about her, then I'd say you may just be the best thing that's happened to her in a while," she finished honestly.

"I hope so," Gibbs murmured as his gaze drifted back toward Kate.

Laura Andrews smiled to herself as she mentally wondered what reception venues were renting for these days.

----------

Gibbs and Kate were in the car, hands laced together, when Kate gave a contented sigh. "_That_ was a great party," she said. "Definitely the best birthday I've ever had," she added, and her voice was full of meaning.

"It was a great party," Gibbs agreed. They continued in silence for a few moments, and Gibbs asked her in a low voice, "Are you nervous?"

She looked over at him, smiling. "Yes," she replied without hesitating. "Don't you think that's to be expected, though?"

He paused. Then, "Do you want to wait?"

"Uh, definitely _not_," she said with a laugh. "I've waited thirty years; I think that's long enough. Besides," she continued, lowering her voice. "What is there to wait for? I'm thirty years old and I've finally found someone I love." Her voice was barely audible by the end of her sentence.

In response, Gibbs brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it lovingly.

The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence, and as soon as they pulled into the driveway and ascended to her porch, he was all over her, standing behind her and kissing her back, her neck, her shoulders as she fumbled to unlock the door. Once inside, she shut the door behind them and he pinned her against it, kissing her without restraint as his hands fumbled with the knot of hair at the base of her neck. Finally, he muttered "Hair down," against her mouth and she yanked roughly at the pins holding her hair in place, finally releasing it, sending auburn curls cascading down around her bare shoulders. He continued his assault on her lips as she grabbed his already-loosened tie and pulled it free of his shirt, tossing it carelessly to the side. He moved his hands to her neck, holding her cheekbones firmly under his thumbs and he kissed her more slowly, more intensely. After a moment, his right hand found its way to her back and searched out her zipper. He pulled back and looked into her eyes as he began to lower it, searching for any signs of apprehension on her part. Seeing none, he continued until the zipper was completely lowered, and then he stepped back, letting her dress fall to the ground. He breathed in softly as he took her in; his mind knew it was no more revealing than the bikinis he had seen her in before, but he found her black strapless bra, black silky panties, and black high heels sexier than he could articulate. She stepped deliberately out of the dress around her ankles, smiling seductively at him. She reached for him and pulled him toward her, her lips assailing his once again. She started with the buttons on his crisp white dress shirt, getting three unfastened before she stopped and pulled away from him. "Wait. Why the hell are we standing here? Bedroom," she commanded, walking off, leaving him behind her.

The sight of her walking away from him, clad only in her bra, panties, and heels, hips swaying, was almost too much for him, and he groaned with arousal as he followed her to her bedroom. She sailed through the doorway and turned abruptly toward him, reaching confidently for him once more. He advanced on her, capturing her lips again. He pushed her backwards, gently, toward her bed, and as she fell back upon it, he climbed on the bed, straddling her. He bent over her, kissing her passionately, as she continued working on his shirt. She finished with the buttons, and he shrugged impatiently out of it, tossing it to the side. She pulled his t-shirt up eagerly then, and he yanked it over his head, throwing it to the side with an almost angry impatience. She sighed with happiness as he hovered over her, shirtless at last, and ran her hands appreciatively down his pecs before she tugged at his belt ravenously. She fumbled with it for a moment, and then pulled it free, throwing it across the room, before unbuttoning his pants, shoving them down his hips, and allowing him to kick them off onto the floor beneath them. When he was situated over her, wearing nothing but boxers and socks, they paused for a moment, panting, feeling the gravity of the situation.

Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his face toward hers once again, kissing her gently as he slid his right arm beneath her and unhooked her bra in one smooth motion. She gave a little laugh at the ease with which he unfastened it, and he grinned back at her as he removed his hand and sat up over her. He ran his fingers along her collarbone as he took her in, drawing the moment out pleasurably for both of them. Suddenly she reached up and pushed him to the side, smoothly turning him onto his back with a quiet strength that surprised him, and flipped over to straddle him, her bra flying to the side. He lay on his back, gazing up at her, and was struck by the raw desire he saw in her eyes. His gaze moved down, taking in her bare torso for the first time, and she was enthralled with the brief flash of longing she saw cross his face. He reached up and took the sides of her ribcage in his strong grip, and her eyes rolled back in her head at the feel of his hands on her bare skin. He pulled her down toward him and they both sighed as her bare breasts pressed against his muscular chest. He kissed her slowly, lustily, and his hands played across her back languidly.

After a moment, he rolled her back over so that she was on her back, and he sat up over her for a moment, just soaking up the sight of her beneath him. She had kicked her heels off and was naked save panties. The black panties set off her milky skin to perfection, and he thought she had never looked more perfect than she did in that moment. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed her deeply, and then began kissing down her jawline, to her neck, and down to her collarbone. He spent the next half hour exploring nearly every square inch of her torso with his mouth, but purposely avoiding her breasts, driving her wild with anticipation. Gibbs was perfectly attuned to her needs, because just as she thought she couldn't stand another moment of his teasing, his mouth closed firmly upon her left nipple, making her shiver violently with arousal. Her nails scratched across his back and neck, and she didn't care if she left marks. For that matter, neither did he.

He continued working her breasts over for a moment, and then slowly kissed his way down her flat, taut belly until his lips were at the top of her panties. He rose up and looked into her eyes as he reached for them and gently tugged them down over her hips, leaving her totally nude at last. He gazed appreciatively at her body for just a moment before running his hands down her smooth legs, admiring the way her muscles felt under his fingers.

Slowly, he pressed himself down atop her, still clad in his boxers, and was rewarded as Kate kissed him hungrily, her hands impatiently pushing at his boxers. She wanted him naked, and she wanted it _now_. He smiled against her mouth at her eagerness and raised his hips, allowing her to push his shorts down. He kicked them off, and then struggled to get his socks off. A moment later, he was lying on top of her, and they were both completely unclothed at last. He pressed his lips to hers again, tangling his fingers in her hair, and then began to slow his kisses, finally punctuating the moment with one final, sensuous caress of her lips. He pushed himself up on his elbows and uttered the first words either of them had spoken since entering her bedroom.

"Are you ready, Love?"

She answered with a mere smile and the tiniest of nods.

"Will you tell me if it gets too uncomfortable?"

She nodded solemnly. "I promise," she whispered.

He positioned himself and took a deep breath as he entered her. He looked at her searchingly, and saw the barest flicker of pain cross her face before she composed herself. He heard her quiet intake of breath and watched her jaw muscle flex. He imagined it hurt more than she was letting on, if the sensations that he himself was experiencing were any indication. The appeal of the idea of sleeping with a virgin suddenly made sense, and he wondered how he was ever going to make himself hang on for any length of time. He took a deep breath to compose himself and whispered, "Are you okay?"

Her face was stoic as she whispered back, "I'm fine. Just give me a second to…adjust." He remained still for another half minute or so, and they simply looked into each other's eyes during that period, savoring the moment. Then she reached for him, pulling him toward her, and kissed his mouth hard. "I love you," she whispered as she began to move against him.

"I love you," he answered as he closed his eyes and willed himself to hang on. Tonight was about her, and he suddenly found himself very thankful for their considerable age difference. If he'd been her age, he wouldn't have lasted two seconds.

He moved slowly at first, careful not to hurt her. He took his cues from her, moving more urgently when she seemed ready, and before long, they were making love passionately, and her breathing was becoming ragged. He was employing every ounce of self-control he had to keep himself off the ledge. He couldn't remember the last time he had had such an intense sexual experience. A few moments later, he watched in satisfaction as her movements intensified and her eyes rolled back in her head. She panted softly as her muscles clenched around him, and he finally gave up the fight, plunging over the edge with her, burying his face in her neck.

They lay there for a moment, breathing hard, savoring each other. Gibbs rolled off of her, landing on his back with one arm flung to the side. Slowly, he sat up on one elbow and reached for her. She rolled to him and he gripped her neck firmly with his free hand, bringing his lips to hers. He kissed her deeply, breathing in her scent, and nestled her against him, drowsy and sated.

----------

As hard as she tried, Kate Andrews could not remember a time in her life when she had ever been as satisfied—physically _and_ emotionally—as she was in this moment. Although she had had sexual experiences short of intercourse before, she couldn't recall any that had even approached the eroticism that she felt on her front porch as she struggled to insert her key into the lock. He had stood behind her, hands firmly splayed across her hips, pulling her back against him, and kissed the exposed skin on her back, neck, and shoulders until she thought her knees would buckle. She had barely closed the door behind them when he had pushed her back against it, kissing her senseless. She had struggled to keep her wits about her as he freed her from her dress, and she had had the presence of mind to move the party to the bedroom where they would be more comfortable.

The pain of the moment itself had been intense but exquisite, and she had tried her best to hide how much it hurt. She had asked for a moment to let her body become acclimated to the feel of him. When she had begun moving with him, she had been pleased with how naturally they fit together, how perfectly easy making love to him was. And the physical sensations he awakened within her! She was startled by how much she _wanted_ him—wanted _more_ of him. She couldn't imagine being more physically attracted to another man, regardless of how old he was. There was something about Jethro Gibbs that just drew her to him, as if he was a magnet and she a piece of iron. Until she met him, she had never quite understood the intense physical longing between a man and a woman that she had heard friends speak of before. Now, however, she did. And when he finally drove her over the edge, she was quite certain she had never experienced anything quite as close to a total awakening of her spirit as she had in that moment.

When they came together, he buried his face in her neck and kissed her neck zealously, and she thought she had never experienced a moment so perfect in her life.

She was now nestled in his arms, her head resting on his perfect chest, and their breathing was slowly returning to normal. She opened her mouth to say something and then thought better of it.

Gibbs chuckled to himself and said, "What is it?"

She laughed quietly with him and said, "I hate it when you do that."

He turned his head to her and kissed her forehead. "What is it, Love?" he said, and his voice was full of emotion.

She considered for a moment and then said, "No…it's the sort of thing that typically scares men off."

He scooted to the side so he could look her directly in the eyes. "There is nothing you could say that would scare me off," he murmured.

She sat up on an elbow and decided to test him. "Ok," she murmured. "I was thinking that you were worth waiting for," she whispered, her voice tight with emotion, "and that I never want to make love to anyone but you for the rest of my life."

They shared a long look and he finally responded by capturing her lips in a kiss that was more searing than any she had yet experienced.

"That is _exactly_ what I wanted to hear," he murmured, and pressed her head back to his chest as drowsiness overtook them.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: This is something of a bridge chapter. My apologies for the delay. I will do my best to update regularly, but the new semester has begun for me, and with it, new classes and new students. The next couple of weeks will be very, very busy for me.**

Gibbs awoke first the next morning, early. He and Kate had separated during the night, and he rose up on his left elbow to watch her as she slept. She lay on her back, her right arm thrown over her head, her fingers tangled in her hair. The sheet was twisted around her, leaving her right shoulder and breast exposed. She was breathtaking in the morning light, and he had to restrain himself from touching her. Best to let her sleep.

He lay there replaying the events of the previous evening in his head as he watched her. The dinner party had been, as they had agreed, a great time, and he had been thrilled that she had liked her gift from him so well. He had enjoyed previous Marine Corps Birthday Balls that he had attended, but he had never attended _the_ ball hosted by the Commandant, and he was excited to share the experience with her. She had been correct; tickets were incredibly difficult to come by, and he had been lucky that his position at NCIS afforded him some pull with the SecNav.

The _after_ part had been incredible; no doubt. Kate was the only virgin he'd ever slept with; he and Shannon had already had sex with others when they'd met, so he'd never known that particular pleasure before. He had to admit that it had been everything that it was built up to be, but it wasn't just the physical part that had been intense. As cheesy as it sounded, even to himself, he had felt like making love to Kate had been something of a spiritual experience for both of them. He was glad they had waited; sure, it had been a mere two weeks, but he had _wanted_ her immediately. Waiting even those two weeks, until he was sure of their feelings for one another, had made it worth the wait.

Honestly, he couldn't wait to do it again.

A few moments later, Kate began to stir, and he smiled at her as she slowly opened her eyes. "Mmm," Kate murmured as she rolled over onto her stomach and sat up on her elbows, stretching her legs out behind her. "I'm sore," she said, shooting him a grin.

"Good morning to you, too," he smiled.

She continued smiling. "Thanks for staying," she said quietly.

"Wouldn't have been anywhere else," he said.

Kate stretched her arms over her head and winced as her shoulders popped. She rolled each hip to the side and Gibbs listened to each of those joints pop, as well. "Yep…gonna need to soak this morning," she said, grimacing. Her face brightened then. "Want to take a hot bath with me?" She smiled seductively at him. "I promise to make it worth your while."

"Where do I sign up?"

She grinned and rolled out of bed, heading for her bathroom. Gibbs followed and inspected the bathtub that he hadn't taken the time to notice last time he'd been in her bathroom. "That thing is big enough for three people," he observed.

"Hey, this bathtub is the reason I bought the house," she shot back, laughing. "Sometimes a hot bath is the only cure for what ails you." She leaned over and started the water running. "I have to brush my teeth and then I'm going to kiss you good morning," she warned.

"Not until I brush mine," he said. "I left my bag in the car. Be back."

When he returned she had just finished brushing her teeth and was staring at herself in the mirror, critical not of the naked form before her, but her hair. "God, I look like Medusa," she muttered, tugging her fingers through the wild red curls cascading over her shoulders.

He stepped behind her and stilled her hands, smoothing her hair down as he swept it to the side, giving himself access to her neck. "Your hair is perfect," he murmured against her skin. "And so are you." He kicked off the shorts he had donned to run out to his car and stood naked against her once again, arms around her waist.

After a moment, he stepped away to brush his teeth, and she continued trying to wrench her fingers through her hair. She finally gave up, opting to pull it back in a tangled ponytail until she could wash the knots out. As soon as he had finished rinsing his mouth, she stepped to him and slid her arms up around his shoulders, enjoying the way it felt to press her bare flesh to his. She pulled his face down to her level and proceeded to kiss him, savoring the way he tasted underneath the toothpaste. His mouth had a flavor unlike that of any other man she had ever kissed, and that taste that was uniquely his never failed to arouse her. His hands began to roam her body, further exciting her. She moaned into his mouth and reluctantly broke away, taking his hands and pulling him toward the large tub. She tested the water and stepped in, beckoning him to join her. As they slid beneath the steaming water, Gibbs pulled Kate on top of him and continued where she had left off, kissing her hungrily and exploring her body with his hands.

"This isn't going to do anything for my joints," she whispered roughly against him, gripping his biceps. "But that's okay," she continued between kisses. "I'll live."

He groaned, pushing her away reluctantly. "No. You soak first. We'll continue this later."

She pouted playfully and then leaned back on the other end of the tub, placing her legs on top of his. He reached for her feet and began massaging as she slumped down in the water, letting the heat soothe her aching joints and muscles. Her eyes were closed in relaxation when he spoke a moment later. "Can I ask you a question?" he said.

"Mmm," she answered.

"How much did it really hurt?"

Without opening her eyes, she shrugged. "It hurt," she said offhandedly. "But not for long, and it was the most intensely pleasurable pain I've ever experienced." She opened her eyes then and locked her gaze on his. "Really."

He nodded, mollified.

Kate soaked for a while longer, gently stretching and flexing her arms and legs, and then declared that she was getting in the shower to wash her hair out, and he was welcome to join her. Unable to pass up the offer, he started the tub draining and stood, pulling Kate to her feet with him.

The shower proved to be an altogether different experience, as Kate took advantage of the steamy atmosphere and their close proximity to continue what he had earlier stopped. As the hot spray rained down on her shoulders, she faced him as she dipped her head backward into the stream of water, wetting it. She closed her eyes, letting the water sluice down over her hair and face. She was teasing him—just a little—knowing full-well how sexy he would find it. She ran her hands over her hair, soaking it, and then reached for her shampoo, which he promptly snatched from her hands. "Turn," he whispered low in her ear as he nudged her to spin around. She obeyed and when his hands found her hair with the shampoo, she suddenly found herself revising her already-revised definition of erotic. He massaged her scalp, working through her knotted hair, and she found herself leaning back against him for support. After a moment, he gently turned her around and began rinsing the shampoo from her hair. When he was finished, he wordlessly reached for the conditioner and repeated the process. As he was rinsing the conditioner, he allowed his hands to follow the suds down her body, caressing first her shoulders, and then her breasts and sides, before finally pulling her to him in a scorching kiss. She realized her heart was racing and she kissed him back desperately. Her hands wound up into his silver hair, and every cell in her body yearned for him.

"God, how is it even _possible_ to want someone the way I want you?" she panted against his mouth.

"Good question," he whispered harshly against her. "Let me know if you figure it out."

She broke from his mouth and began kissing his jaw, down his neck, to his shoulder. From there, she began trailing kisses down his chest, and all at once, Gibbs realized what she was doing. He groaned with arousal and allowed his eyes to roll back as he released her and she sank down to her knees.

Jethro Gibbs leaned back against the shower wall and attempted to keep his knees from buckling.

----------

She was an enthusiastic lover, no doubt. Having fully discovered the pleasures of the flesh, she was apparently intent on honing her skills with him as often as possible. Gibbs had a healthy libido, but after she finished with him in the shower, he declared his need to refuel with some breakfast if she wanted to continue to have her way with him. He shrugged into a t-shirt and sweatpants while Kate wrapped herself in a fluffy white robe and they padded into the kitchen. Kate opened her fridge and nosed around. "Hmm…mimosas?" she said mischievously.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and shrugged his assent.

Kate pulled out the champagne and orange juice and handed Gibbs the champagne bottle to uncork. "Do you want omelets?" she asked. He was considering that when they were both startled by the sound of the doorbell. Kate cinched her robe tighter and shot him a puzzled look as she headed to the front door. Peeking out through the peephole, she sucked in a breath and uttered a low, "You have _got_ to be kidding me." She shot Gibbs a helpless look, and rolling her eyes, she pulled open the door. "Morning, Mom," she said in resigned voice as she turned and walked back toward the kitchen. "Don't say a word," she warned her mother over her shoulder.

Laura Andrews walked through the door and took in the sight of her daughter and Gibbs, both fresh from the shower, hair still wet. "Well," she smirked, "I see the party didn't stop at midnight for some of us."

Gibbs laughed out loud and Kate shot him a "That is not funny" look. "Really, Mom?" she said, rolling her eyes.

"Whatever—you're both adults. Some of you more so than others," she said, making Gibbs laugh out loud once again. "I'm glad I didn't bring your dad along, though," she said, entirely too cheerfully. She held up a bag. "I brought breakfast, although I didn't bring enough for three, so I'll just drop this off and be on my merry way." Gibbs began to protest, and she silenced him with a raised hand. "No, Jethro, don't argue. I am an uninvited guest, while you, apparently, are not." She paused for a moment, long enough to pull a small gift-wrapped box out of her bag. She handed the box to Kate. "Here, sweetie, this is the _real_ reason I dropped by. I just picked these up—the jeweler didn't have them ready until this morning."

"Jeweler?" said Kate. "I like the sound of that," she said, half under her breath, as she tore the paper away, revealing a blue velvet box. She opened the box and her eyes widened. "Wow," she breathed. "They're beautiful." She tilted the box toward Gibbs and showed him the diamond earring studs in the box.

She hugged her mother tightly and Laura murmured, "Well, your daughter only has her thirtieth birthday once. We wanted to give you something special." She pulled away, smiled brightly, and said, "I'll leave you two to your breakfast. Sorry to have, uh, _interrupted,_" she grinned salaciously.

"God, Mom, _stop_," Kate muttered, putting her hand on her mother's shoulders and turning her as she pushed her toward the door. "Thanks for the earrings," she said as she playfully pushed her still-grinning mother out the front door. "Love you," she called as she closed the door. She turned and leaned against the closed door, mortified. "What is _wrong_ with you?" she asked when she glanced up at Gibbs, who was shaking with barely repressed laughter.

"You're acting like you just got caught sneaking out of the house. Relax; like she said, you're an adult."

Kate stood up and walked back toward the kitchen. "I'm well aware of that, thank you. But it was still a little embarrassing to have my mom show up and find me sitting around in my robe with someone she knows full well I just met."

He shrugged. "She didn't seem to mind."

Kate looked back toward the door. "You're right. Apparently she's thrilled with you." She rolled her eyes and said, "She's itching for grandchildren and I think she's given up on Will." She stopped, face reddening. "Yeah, let's pretend I didn't just say that." Gibbs grinned in response.

She opened the bag her mother had brought and began to dig through it. "Mmm, bagels," she said. "Cream cheese?" she asked him, holding a bagel out to him.

"Sounds good," he said, taking the bagel from her, her embarrassment—and the omelets—apparently forgotten.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: A couple of points I'd like to make: first of all, I've already noted that Gibbs is a little out of character here, so it's really not necessary to inform me of that. Isn't that sort of the point of fanFICTION, though? To do what we want with our beloved characters? **

**More to the point, however, is that I'm not so sure Gibbs IS out of character. Honestly, we see so little of him away from the office. He has a definite way with his team, but he obviously can't be QUITE as cold on a personal level as he is with his team; otherwise the man would have never married FOUR TIMES.**

**We've seen in flashbacks with Shannon and Kelly a completely different Gibbs, so obviously their deaths really shut him down emotionally. The idea I'm trying to explore here is whether finding love again can cause this guy to thaw out, so to speak, **_**hence the title of the story. **_

**Also, sorry this update took so long. The beginning of the semester is always very busy and stressful for me, and I haven't had much time to devote to writing. I hate the way this chapter turned out—it doesn't flow right, parts of it don't ring true to me—but I'm tired of screwing with it, so…here it is.**

**Sorry. Longest author's note ever.**

On Tuesday morning, Ziva David noted that Anthony DiNozzo was grinning like the Cheshire cat as he sat at his desk in the bullpen. "What is it, Tony?" she asked warily, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. McGee looked up, curious.

Tony leaned back in his chair and grinned, lacing his fingers behind his head. "I saw something very interesting Friday night," he said, his grin growing larger.

"Do we even want to know?" Ziva asked.

"Oh, I think it's pretty good, Ziva, but you can decide for yourself. Do you remember that smokin' hot red-headed doctor that gave a statement for us a few weeks ago?"

Ziva rolled her eyes. "I don't know about the _smokin' hot_ part, Tony, but yes. I remember her. Uh… something Anderson?"

"Andrews. Katherine Andrews."

"Yes?"

"I saw her at Charlie Palmer Steak Friday night."

Ziva looked at him as if he'd grown another head. "So?" she said impatiently.

Tony's smile grew until his face looked like it might crack. "So…I could barely see her due to the fact that she was wrapped up so tightly in the arms of one _Special Agent Gibbs._"

Tony gave a satisfied chuckle as Ziva raised her eyebrows, and then glanced at McGee, who looked thoroughly unimpressed. "What, that doesn't interest you, McGee?"

"No. It doesn't."

Tony took the bait. "And why not?"

"Because _I_ have pictures."

McGee looked on with some satisfaction as Tony's jaw dropped. "How…do you have _pictures_, Probie?"

McGee smirked. "Apparently one of the girls in my book club—"

"You're in a book club, McGeek?"

McGee frowned. "Well, if you're not interested…" he closed his laptop, picked up a file, and began reading intently.

DiNozzo caved. "Okay, okay…sorry, McGee. Continue."

McGee slowly closed the file. "_Apparently,_" he continued pointedly, "one of the girls in my book club went to college with Dr. Andrews and attended her birthday party at Charlie Palmer Steak Friday night. She posted pictures on her Facebook page." He opened his laptop once again and spun it around for Ziva and Tony to see.

"Whoa," said Ziva and Tony in unison, their mouths falling open. The picture open on McGee's Facebook page was in an album entitled '_Kate's 30__th__ Birthday Soiree._' It was captioned '_Kate and her new beau,'_ and showed Gibbs and Kate dancing on the rooftop terrace at Charlie Palmer Steak, Gibbs' hand cradling Kate's against his chest as they danced _very_ closely. Ziva and Tony looked at each other, awed.

"It gets better," McGee continued smugly. He clicked past two more pictures until he hit on one of Gibbs kissing Kate next to a low brick wall, a view of Washington in the background.

"Damn," Tony whispered. "He's good."

"Ya think, DiNozzo?"

Ziva, DiNozzo, and McGee all froze in horror. Slowly, Ziva and DiNozzo straightened from their hunched-over positions as McGee closed his laptop. Ziva and DiNozzo both closed their eyes against what they would face as they turned around toward their boss.

---------

Tuesday morning was not getting off to a good start. Kate was, as Gibbs had suspected, a sudden enthusiastic participant in all things sexual. They had spent the whole of the Labor Day weekend in bed, on her boat, or in bed _on_ her boat. By the time he reluctantly took his leave of her Monday night, he was exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that he collapsed into bed and slept an hour late Tuesday morning. By the time he leapt out of bed, got ready, and grabbed some coffee, he was considerably late to the office. And when he arrived…he was more than a little pissed to find his team looking at pictures of himself and Kate—kissing, no less—on McGee's laptop. He had no idea where the pictures had come from, and he didn't particularly care. All he knew was that walking into the bullpen to see his team looking at a picture of him kissing Kate was not an improvement on the way the morning had started.

"Damn," Tony said. "He's good."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. Time to end the show. "Ya think, DiNozzo?"

All three of his agents became utterly still. McGee was the first to move, slowly closing his laptop with a look of trepidation on his face. Ziva and Tony then began to rise. As they turned toward him, Gibbs got the barest glimpse of Tony's closed eyes before he whapped him on the back of the head. "My personal life is none of your business, DiNozzo," he said, turning back toward his desk.

"Right, Boss. Sorry, Boss," DiNozzo said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Just get to work," Gibbs snapped as he sat down.

----------

At noon, DiNozzo was shocked to see the red-headed doctor in question approaching the bullpen with a security escort. He looked over at Gibbs' empty desk and then at the escort. "She's here to see Agent Gibbs," the escort said. "Can I leave her with you?"

Tony nodded and stood. "Uh, hi. Dr. Andrews, right?" He extended his hand.

She looked surprised that he remembered her. "Yes," she said, setting the coffee cups and bag in her hand down to shake his hand. "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name…"

"Anthony DiNozzo—"

"I've got it from here, DiNozzo," came Gibbs' voice as he entered the bullpen, making Tony jump.

Kate turned. "Brought you chicken salad, and ugh, better coffee than _that,_" she said, eyeing the Starbucks cup in his hand distastefully. She reached out and dumped the nearly-full cup in his trash can as Tony watched in horror, then handed him a stainless steel mug instead.

"Rule number 23," Tony muttered, "Never mess with—"

"Rule number 23 doesn't apply to her, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped as he picked up the lunch bag and led her from his desk toward the break room. DiNozzo wasn't sure, but he thought he heard Gibbs add in a low voice, "None of the rules apply to her."

----------

"Rule number 23?" Kate asked in amusement once they were seated in the break room.

Gibbs grinned. "Never mess with a Marine's coffee if you want to live."

"Ah." She picked at her chicken salad sandwich with a smile.

"So do you have every Tuesday off?" Gibbs asked.

"Mmm-hmm," she answered, her mouth full. She chewed and swallowed, then continued. "Unless somebody's sick or out of town, or there's a really bad bug going around and we're swamped." She grinned.

"Must be nice," Gibbs muttered.

They chewed in silence for a moment before Gibbs told her about the picture on McGee's laptop. She raised her eyebrows until Gibbs said, "It was on a website called Facebook." At this, Kate laughed. Gibbs looked irritated. "What is it? I've heard of it, but I don't know what it is."

Kate laughed again. "Social networking, J. Social networking. Apparently someone on your team is friends with someone who was there Friday night."

"So...anyone can post pictures of me on the internet without my permission?" Gibbs looked displeased.

"Pretty much." She shrugged. "Brave new world, J. I've already seen where several of my friends have posted pictures from the party."

"Yeah, well, one of them was a picture of me _kissing_ you, which is a little more than I'd care for members of my team to see." Gibbs sounded rankled.

"Embarrassed?" Kate smirked.

"Anything but," he replied. "However, I like to keep my personal and professional lives separate," he noted.

"Then why did you agree to let me bring you lunch today?" she asked smoothly.

"Because you make damn good chicken salad," he answered smugly.

----------

Two weeks later, Gibbs' team was called out of town to work a case and he went three days without talking to Kate. It was during this time that everything began to unravel in his head.

Three days in the remote mountains on the Ohio-West Virginia border working a gruesome case gave him time to think. His concentration remained solely focused on work while he was working, but the evenings provided uninterrupted time to contemplate where things were going with Kate. The incident with the Facebook pictures had gotten him to thinking—again—about how significant their age difference really was.

"Boss," DiNozzo's voice interrupted his thoughts. The team was walking back into their hotel after dinner. "Ziva and McGee and I are going to have a few beers and play cards for awhile. Wanna join us?"

"Nah," Gibbs answered. "I'm probably just gonna turn in early."

Gibbs walked on while Ziva, McGee, and DiNozzo exchanged a worried glance.

"He has not seemed normal since we left D.C.," Ziva observed quietly once Gibbs was out of earshot. "Something is wrong."

----------

Gibbs, clad in a t-shirt and sweats, sat on his hotel room bed, leaning back against the head board. He was deep in thought as he slowly sipped a beer. What was he doing to her? It had been a little over a month and he was deeply in love with her; of this, there was no doubt. His concern was whether the relationship was good for _her_ or not. She was young; she deserved a wedding, children, a husband who wouldn't leave her a widow at far too early an age.

He grabbed absentmindedly for the remote control and turned on the TV. Flipping aimlessly through the channels, straying from station to station barely long enough to register what was playing, he finally settled on a Vietnam War documentary. Five minutes later, he realized he had absolutely no recollection of anything the narrator had said and turned the TV off, tossing the remote aside in frustration.

He listened to DiNozzo, McGee, and Ziva getting rowdier as they played cards in Tony's room next door. He knew he should make more of an effort to be friendlier to his team—or at the very least, let them know that he appreciated them. Sighing, he tossed the empty beer bottle in the trash can and grabbed number eight, twisting off the top.

He stepped to the door that adjoined his room to Tony's, opened it, and rapped lightly on the inside door with his beer bottle. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a pleasantly surprised-looking Tim McGee. "Mind if I join you?" Gibbs asked quietly.

"Uh...of course not. Come on in, Boss," McGee said, curiosity evident in both his face and voice. Gibbs entered, grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the flimsy hotel table on which the card game was taking place.

"Here, I'll deal you in," DiNozzo said, gathering up the cards currently in play.

"It might help if you tell me what you're playing."

"Phase Ten…but we can play something else if you want."

"Just tell me how to play, Tony."

Tony explained the rules and as they began the game, Ziva surreptitiously examined Gibbs through her eyelashes as he sucked down his beer. Although he wasn't sloppy—he was far too disciplined for that—she could tell by his glazed eyes that he was drunk. On the rare occasions that he spoke, his speech, while not slurred, was just a little slower, a little more drawling. She nearly laughed in relief when Gibbs finally cracked a smile as he took a particularly close hand from Tony. "Nice try, DiNozzo," he said, tossing down his cards and pushing them toward McGee, whose turn it was to shuffle.

As McGee shuffled, Gibbs excused himself to use the restroom, and when the door clicked shut behind him, Ziva, McGee, and DiNozzo silently exchanged glances.

"He's drunk," Ziva said in a barely audible whisper.

DiNozzo looked back over his shoulder toward the bathroom. "It's got to be the girl," he whispered back, his voice full of concern.

"Think they split up?" McGee asked.

"I don't know," DiNozzo murmured. "He was completely distracted at dinner, though."

McGee looked thoughtful. "I've never seen him get distracted by personal stuff before."

"Me, either," said Tony and Ziva in unison before the sound of the flushing toilet shut them all up.

"Your deal, Probie," said Tony as Gibbs opened the bathroom door.

----------

It was midnight before the card game finished, and the four team members had silently dispersed to their respective hotel rooms. Ziva David was standing at the door of her room, indecisive. With a deep breath, she finally opened the door and walked to Gibbs' room. She tapped lightly on the door before she could change her mind and stood back to wait. A moment later, Gibbs opened the door and stared at her silently through glassy eyes.

"May I come in?" she asked quietly.

Gibbs wordlessly stood to the side and allowed her entry.

Ziva stepped inside his hotel room, glanced around, and took a seat in one of the shabby chairs surrounding the small table. She sat straight, hands in her lap, as she watched Gibbs move to the bed and sit.

She took a deep breath and spoke. "I am sorry if I am overstepping my bounds. But…would you like to talk?"

Gibbs looked at her dully. "About what?"

"Whatever it is that is bothering you."

Gibbs was silent for a moment and then blew out a heavy sigh. He would have thrown Tony or Tim out of his room, but Ziva was different. Ziva had a wisdom that the guys did not—a maturity beyond her years, and instincts that had never failed to impress him. And he owed his life to her. Yes, there was also that. That bond that had been forged in his basement was something that was always at the core of his relationship with Ziva.

Ziva watched him carefully as he turned things over in his mind. She took a deep breath; she was already in this deep—might as well go for broke.

"Is it the girl?"

Gibbs' eyes flashed up to hers, and a brief look of ire crossed his face. "She's not a _girl_, Ziva."

Ah. So he was sensitive about the age difference. "Fine. Is it the woman?"

He stared at the ceiling for at least thirty seconds, unmoving. Ziva waited. Finally, he said quietly, "Does it matter?"

Ziva looked down, searching for the right words. She was a strong woman, and expressing emotion did not come easily to her. She knew that Gibbs knew how she felt about him, and she knew how he felt about her; putting those emotions into words, however, was always difficult. Finally, she said, slowly, "Your…personal life is your own business, of course, and I do not expect you to share it with me or anyone else. But…I do also consider you a friend, and I can see that you are unhappy…about something. I just wanted you to know that I am here…if you wish to talk. About anything." She desperately wanted to stand and leave, but her instincts told her to stay, that he needed to talk, and that he was just intoxicated enough that he might allow himself to do so.

A moment later, he proved her right. He leaned over with his forearms on his knees and rubbed his hand tiredly across his face before flopping back onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling as he spoke. "I have no idea what she's doing with me—no idea what she sees in me. I just think she deserves better, but…" his voice trailed off and Ziva could barely make out his next words. "I don't want to hurt her."

"So what are you going to do?" she asked quietly.

He closed his eyes and huffed out a breath. "I guess I have to let her go."


	16. Chapter 16

Jethro Gibbs sat at his desk in the bullpen, thinking. His head was swimming with emotions that he could barely process. He had no idea how to do what he needed to do without hurting Kate. Wasn't it in her best interest, though, for them to be apart? How could it be good for her to be tied down to a man two decades her senior? He had sworn to himself after the last one that he would never marry again, and though the thought had crossed his mind with Kate, he didn't think he could go through with it. How was that fair to her?

He made up his mind. He had to talk to her. Tonight.

----------

Kate Andrews sat in her office chair and took a deep breath as she withdrew the needle from her arm and taped a cotton swab in place over the puncture mark. Her hands trembled slightly as she labeled the vial of blood with her name and dropped it into an envelope along with hand-written instructions for the lab. Standing, she wiped her hands on her khakis and carried the envelope to the front desk. "Would you send this out with this afternoon's lab work and make sure they put a rush on it so it's back tomorrow morning?" she asked.

Kate returned to her office and sank into her chair, blowing out a shaky breath. "This cannot be happening," she whispered to herself.

----------

Gibbs stood on Kate's porch, hesitating. After a moment, he lifted his hand and knocked on her door. It took her only a moment to answer, and she threw the door open with a big smile. "Hi," she grinned enthusiastically. "I missed you," she added softly as she drew him into a hug. She felt him stiffen and pulled away, looking at him in confusion. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Kate, we need to talk," he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind them. She looked at him guardedly as she moved toward the couch.

"J…" she trailed off warily. "Nothing good ever comes of a conversation that starts with, 'we need to talk.' What's going on?"

He sank down next to her and rubbed his hands nervously on his knees. She didn't like where this was going. Her heart sped up as anxiety set in.

"Kate…" he began haltingly. "I've been thinking…the past few days…about where this is all going…" He drew a deep breath and then finished in a rush, "and I just don't know if this relationship is fair to you."

She looked at him, silent, waiting.

"Tell me, honestly," he said. "You don't really think this is going anywhere, do you?"

She stared at him, dumbfounded. After a moment, she found her voice. "Yes, actually," she said, the barest hint of anger in her voice. "I did."

"I just…" he faltered. "I think you deserve more. I swore after the last time that I'd never get married again, since apparently I can't make a marriage work."

"Well, last time I checked," she said, anger now flashing unrestrained in her eyes, "I hadn't proposed to you, so what's the problem?"

He sighed. "You just deserve something better than an old man. I can't give you the things you want," he said, uncertain.

She stood and began pacing. Suddenly, epiphany struck, and she turned to him, thrusting her finger in his face. "Bullshit," she said, her voice full of passion. "Bullshit," she repeated. She narrowed her eyes and slowly bent until her face was inches from his, placing her hands on his thighs to support her weight. "You're scared," she sneered. Her voice was low and deliberate as she continued. "You have fallen in love and it's for real this time. You're running scared. You're in deep and you don't know what to do." Satisfied with her assessment, she pushed herself roughly up off of his thighs and resumed pacing.

Gibbs took a deep breath and stood. "Maybe you're right," he said loudly, almost shouting. "Maybe I _am_ scared. Maybe I can't remember the last time I felt this way about someone and maybe I don't see how this can end in any way but with me getting my heart ripped out of my chest—again!"

"How about 'happily ever after', J?" she asked, hands on her hips. Her cheeks were flaming and her blue eyes were large and full of ire. "Did it ever occur to you that it could end that way?"

He stared her down and quietly said, "I don't think 'happily ever after' exists for me, Kate." His eyes were full of pain. "And besides, I have no idea what you're doing with me. I feel like if we stayed together, I'd spend the rest of my life wondering when you're going to wake up and realize that you're out of my league and that you could do so much better."

"So that's it." She was furious; he could see it in her eyes. She sauntered toward him, hands on her hips and danger in her eyes. "So you got what you wanted from me and now you're out the door." It was a low blow, and she knew it, but she couldn't help the childish satisfaction that spread through her as her meaning hit him. He reacted as if she'd slapped him.

"You know it wasn't like that."

"No. I don't," she snapped. "I _thought_ that it wasn't like that, but apparently I was wrong, Jethro." He flinched at her use of his given name, a far cry from her much-preferred 'J'. "I _thought _we had something really unique between us. I'll be honest," she said, her eyes boring into his. "I thought you were The One."

"I don't want to hurt you, Kate—" he began, but she cut him off.

"Too late," she spat. "Damage done. But that's okay," she said with a cruel edge in her voice. "I don't need someone who thinks I'm incapable of deciding what's best for me, and I _certainly_ don't need someone who doesn't think I'm worth taking a chance on." Her eyes narrowed and she locked him in her gaze. "I thought they bred cowardice out of you guys at Parris Island." She clenched her jaw as tears threatened. She would _not_ allow him to see her cry. "Get out."

"Kate—"

"Leave. _Now,_" she commanded as the tears advanced in their effort to spill over. Gibbs looked at her with sad eyes for a moment and then tentatively reached out to stroke her face. She knocked his hand away and he turned to go. As he reached for the door, her voice came quietly from behind him, and he could hear the quiver in her words. "Just remember this, J. It took me thirty years before I found a man I could love. Don't you think that's significant? Don't you think that means something? When you walk out that door, just remember that the _only_ person in this room with doubts about my feelings for you is _you._" He heard her turn and walk away, and swallowing hard, he turned the doorknob and stepped quietly into the night air.

----------

Gibbs gripped the steering wheel of his car until his knuckles turned white. His throat was tight and he swallowed convulsively. His heart was pounding and he wanted nothing more on earth than a tumbler of bourbon. He _knew_ he was doing the right thing; he _had _to be. So why was he leaving her house feeling like he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life?

God, she fought like Shannon—hard and below the belt. He knew that unlike Shannon, though, Kate wouldn't be coming back to say she was sorry. He had deserved everything she'd thrown at him. Kate was so easygoing and level-headed that she had never displayed any anger in his presence before, so he was surprised—though he knew he shouldn't have been—at the ferocity of her reaction. Her rancor had rattled him to the core, although he didn't know why. What exactly had he expected her to do, dance with joy?

The truth of the matter was that it wasn't only his heart that was hurting; his ego was bruised, too, because he had to admit that she had been right. He _was _scared. Cowardice was not his way, at least not when it came to physical danger. Love was a somewhat different story, though. He'd been burned. Severely. Losing Shannon and Kelly had nearly killed him. He'd thought he would never experience pain like that again, and he was right, but being left by Jenny had been close. Brutally close. The three divorces were, each in their own way, painful, too, but in each of those cases he had been better off in the end. Not so with Jenny. He had envisioned a life with her—a life beyond undercover ops and NCIS—but she had had different ideas, and it had scarred him deeply when she had chosen her career over him. How was he to know that the same thing wouldn't happen with Kate? Jenny had once been as passionate in her love for him as Kate seemed to be, and yet she had turned and left—easily and seemingly without a second thought.

He turned into his driveway and bolted for the house, determined to forget the look in Kate's eyes, along with the tears he had seen welling there.

----------

Kate was lying in her garden tub, soaking in a steaming bubble bath, thoroughly spent. Her swollen eyes were closed and her face was lifted toward the ceiling. She was all cried out. She was broken-hearted, angry, bewildered, and emotionally exhausted, and she had no idea which emotion needed precedence at the moment. She had no idea how she and Jethro had gotten to this point, and that made it worse: she never saw it coming. They had been, to her knowledge, absolutely fine when he had left for West Virginia. Another woman? Her gut told her no.

Fear. It was pure fear. She had seen it in his eyes.

She choked out a tearless sob as she squeezed her eyes more tightly shut against the pain. He wasn't the only one who was scared. The only difference was that now she was scared…and alone.

----------

Gibbs awoke under his boat at 6 a.m. and bolted for the trashcan. He heaved, his head pounding, until he couldn't breathe. When at last the vomiting stopped, he raised his head and tried to get his bearings. His basement spun as he looked around. _'Still drunk,'_ he mused. He had polished off all that remained of his bottle of bourbon and mercifully passed out on the basement floor. As he stood unsteadily to his feet, he saw that one of the ribs of the boat was shattered. "What the hell?" he whispered aloud. He had no memory of the latter part of the evening before he had passed out. Stepping closer to the boat, he examined the ruined rib and saw a rounded indentation—the tell-tale sign of a sledgehammer blow. He spun around too quickly and grabbed the boat for balance as vertigo threatened to overtake him. Recovering, he examined his basement until he saw the sledgehammer leaning up against the workbench.

He must have gotten pissed.

He leaned over his workbench, head in his hands, and squeezed his eyes shut. Today was not going to be a good day.

----------

At 7:30 a.m., Kate entered her office building, head down to hide her red and swollen eyes. When she rounded the corner toward her office, she nearly collided with Jay and Dan. Looking up in surprise, her two partners immediately zeroed in on her eyes and narrowed their own eyes in concern. She held up her hands in a 'please don't ask' gesture, and they closed their mouths in unison.

"Did yesterday's lab work come in yet?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," Dan said, distractedly, still wondering what had happened to her. "There's some results on your desk. Um…you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, walking quickly on. "Just been feeling a little run down, so I sent off some blood for a CBC." It was only a half-lie, she told herself.

Entering her office, she closed the door gently behind her and slowly put her bag down, looking warily at the brown envelope on her desk. Part of her wanted desperately to rip into it as quickly as possible, while another part of her felt that ignorance was probably bliss. Moving slowly, as though the envelope would bite, she moved around her desk and sank down into her chair. She picked up the envelope and held it for a moment before sighing and slicing into it with a letter opener. She slid the single sheet of paper out and closed her eyes for a moment before looking at it.

Kate forced herself to examine the results of the CBC before she progressed to the more important numbers. She glanced over it and saw that the CBC numbers were all fine. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Scanning further down the page, she found the number she was looking for: 374. "Way, way too high to be anything else," she whispered. The fear that had lain coiled in her belly now blossomed into full-blown terror as she contemplated what lay ahead. "This isn't happening," she whispered. "This is _not happening_."

Glancing toward her door to reassure herself that it was indeed closed, she lay her head on her desk and allowed the tears to flow once again.


	17. Chapter 17

_Eight days later_

"I don't give a damn about the details, Tony, just get it done!" Gibbs shouted. DiNozzo looked more irritated than intimidated as he walked off; Gibbs had been on everybody's ass non-stop for a week and it was getting old. He was being unbearable even by Gibbs standards. Tony rolled his eyes at Ziva as he passed her desk; she gave the tiniest of nods in acknowledgement.

Gibbs passed a hand over his face. It was 3:00 in the afternoon and he was _still_ hung over. He had been hung over every day for the past week, but it hadn't stopped him from topping off with yet more liquid anesthetic each night when he returned home. He knew he was being unreasonably harsh with his team, but he couldn't bring himself to care. All he could think about was Kate, and it was getting worse instead of better. He had finally come to the realization that he had made a very bad decision and he wasn't sure how to fix it. He had started to feel a sense of urgency in his gut; about what, he hadn't quite figured out yet. But he knew it was only a matter of time before he broke down and went to see her; he was fairly certain how _that_ would turn out—it would just be a chance for her to tell him to go to hell in person. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that she would forgive him for behaving the way he had.

Sighing, he picked up the file on his desk and flipped through it, trying in vain to concentrate on the words in front of him. He was thinking about Kate—again—when his phone buzzed. He picked it up without looking at it, flipped it open, and barked, "Gibbs."

"I'm in the lobby of NCIS. Get your ass down here now."

Gibbs stopped cold, trying to place the voice. "Allison?"

"You're damn right. Get down here. I'm not leaving until you do." She hung up without giving him a chance to answer and he let his phone clatter to his desk as he rubbed his hands back over his face and stood. He looked at Ziva and said with a frustrated sigh, "I'm stepping out. If anyone is looking for me, just….handle it." Ziva nodded at him, and he could feel her eyes boring into his back all the way to the elevator.

He stepped out of the elevator into the lobby and Allison was barreling toward him before he could even scan half the room. Fury was evident in her features, and he knew he was in for it. She stopped just short of colliding with him and stuck her finger in his face. "Jethro—I don't know what your problem is, and frankly, I don't care. What I do care about is my best friend and Kate has been an absolute wreck for the past week, thanks to you. She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep. She's lost eight pounds—she's down to 102, which is absurd, in case you care. She looks like a walking skeleton. She has spent every night—and all of last weekend, I might add—at the hospital, working emergency pediatrics until midnight or later. She's dead on her feet and won't quit because when she does, she cries, and she hates to feel weak."

She paused for a breath, and Gibbs opened his mouth, but Allison cut him off before he could get a word in.

"Listen to me—" Allison rammed her index finger forcefully into Gibbs' chest several times, and Gibbs saw a security guard step in their direction. He held up a hand to wave the guard off and turned his attention back to Allison, who continued her tirade. "She loves you and you cast her aside like she was no better than garbage. She has too much pride to come to you, so it's up to you to fix this. All I know is that you need to get your ass to her doorstep _now_ so that you can get a look at what you've done to her. And by _now,_ I mean, go back upstairs, gather up your things, and take the rest of the day off so you can fix this clusterfuck—to use a military term—you've created." She stopped, feeling calmer now that she had said her piece. "Do you love her?" Gibbs looked at the ceiling. "_Do you love her?" _Allison demanded.

Gibbs sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Yes," he said, still staring at the ceiling.

"Then go. Now. I don't really care what you think of me. If you think I'm a busybody sticking my nose where it doesn't belong—that's fine. But Kate is suffering, and I can't stand it. She'd kill me if she knew I was here talking to you, and I don't even care. I just want you two to stop behaving like children and get your acts together. Now _go_." She pushed him gently backward, toward the elevator.

Gibbs looked at her, his frustration rising to the surface. "Look, Allison, I fucked up. I don't need you to tell me that. But she isn't going to want to see me. She'll slam the door in my face, which I wouldn't blame her for, but what is the _point_ of me going over there when she'll just throw me out?"

Allison stared at him. "She won't throw you out."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "How do you know?"

She sounded pissed again. "Can you just trust me on this?" She lowered her voice and it took on a pleading quality. "She needs you. Go now. Please."

Gibbs stopped and looked at his watch. "It's 3:30 on a Thursday. Isn't she at work?"

"No. She isn't. She's at home."

He furrowed his brow. "You just said she was working nonstop."

"She wasn't given much of a choice in it." Her voice tightened with worry, and Gibbs tensed.

"Why? What's wrong, Allison?"

She looked at him seriously. "You know, Jethro, I realize that I probably seem like I excel at getting in other people's business, but in this case, it's really not my place to tell you about it. If you care enough about her to wonder what's going on, then you ought to care enough to find out for yourself."

----------

Gibbs approached his desk and picked up his jacket and briefcase. Ziva was the only agent in the bullpen, and for that he was grateful. "Ziva," he began, "I'm taking off early. I have to," he locked eyes with her, "fix something." She narrowed her eyes carefully and nodded, understanding what he left unsaid.

"Good," she said quietly, flashing him a gentle smile. "I won't call you unless it's a matter of national security."

"Thanks," he muttered as he turned and left.

----------

Gibbs gripped the steering wheel of his car as he drew near to Kate's house. He was anxious about how she would react to seeing him, and about whatever it was that Allison wouldn't say. Something was wrong; Allison had said enough to make that clear, but he couldn't guess what it might be.

Her description of Kate as a wreck and her subsequent account of Kate's physical condition had been enough to erase any remaining self-doubt he had about trying to put things right—not to mention making him feel like even more of an ass than he already did. And despite Allison's assurances, the big question remained of whether she would be willing to forgive him. Was there still a chance for the two of them? God, he hoped so.

He pulled into her driveway, cut the engine, and took a deep breath. He had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to her, but he figured he could wing it—if she even gave him the chance to say anything. He got out of his car and walked up to her front porch. After hesitating for a moment, he knocked on the door and stood back to wait.

A moment later, the door swung slowly open, and although his first urge was to jump through the doorway and kiss her until she couldn't breathe, he stopped in his tracks when he got a look at her.

Allison was right. Kate was a wreck.

Her eyes were red and puffy, and she had deep, dark shadows beneath them. Her face was pale and gaunt, and her hair hung limply over her shoulders in a loose ponytail. She was wearing a thin tank top with sweatpants, and he was alarmed at the way her collarbones protruded beneath her skin.

He stood there in shock as she widened her eyes in obvious surprise at his sudden reappearance. Wrenching himself back to reality, Gibbs slowly stepped through the doorway and slipped his arms carefully around her, gently pulling her close to him. As he encircled her with his arms, it didn't escape his notice that her own arms remained at her side. He winced silently as his hands brushed past ribs that protruded far too much, and when his hands found their way to her back, he could feel the distinct outline of her spine.

She had clearly lost weight where there was really none to lose.

After a moment, she placed her hands gently to his sides. It was a hesitant move, but one that held promise, and he released her, stepping back. He reached for her face and she looked up at him with tired eyes. "Why are you here?" she whispered, sounding hoarse.

He looked into her eyes. His rough voice was tight with heartache as he said, "Because…I am a complete ass to have ever thought that I could just walk away from you unscathed. And because I want to tell you that you were right in almost everything you said to me—I _was_ scared. I didn't think I'd been with you long enough to be so miserable without you. But I was wrong. I know now that the fear of losing you down the road couldn't possibly be as bad as the last week has been—sitting and wondering to myself what might have been." He paused. "I also want to tell you that you were wrong about one thing, though. You _are_ worth taking a chance on."

She looked at him for a long moment before turning and walking toward the kitchen. "So what made you come? After eight days, what made you decide to take the chance?" She gave him a suspicious look. "And how'd you know I'd be home?"

"I guess I owe Allison one for that."

She whirled around, her face filled with panic. "You've spoken to Allison?"

He narrowed his eyes, wondering what had her so wound up. "She came to NCIS and ripped me a new one," he said slowly. "I would have ended up here anyway, but she…lit a fire under me, so to speak."

"What did she say to you?" Kate asked through clenched teeth.

Gibbs ignored her question. "Kate, what's going on? Why are you home instead of at work?" He noted the soup she was ladling into a bowl. "Allison said you weren't eating."

"Don't have a choice now." He followed as Kate pushed some papers aside and sat at the head of her dining room table, looking apathetically at the soup in front of her.

"What does that mean?"

Kate looked up at him curiously. "She really didn't tell you?"

Gibbs was getting frustrated. "Tell me _what_?"

She sized him up and then sighed. "You're going to turn around and run right back out that door," she said, shaking her head. "I doubt you want to know."

"Kate, there is _nothing_ you could say right now that would make me go back out that door," he uttered emphatically, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to her at the table.

Fine. She would try him.

She pushed a piece of paper across the table at him and looked at him with large eyes that held something suspiciously like fear. He glanced down at the paper for a moment before deducing that it was some sort of lab report. Kate's name was at the top. She moved her soup to the side and reached over with a pen and circled something. Gibbs looked down in confusion at the line she had indicated: _hCG: 374 mIU/mL_

"What's hCG?"

Kate smiled mirthlessly. "Human chorionic gonadotropin."

"I don't speak Doctor. In English, please?"

She locked her eyes on his, and he found that he was completely unable to break her gaze. She drew him in with her eyes and then said, "It means that I'm pregnant, J."

It was ten seconds before he remembered to breathe.

When he finally sucked in a breath, he had absolutely no idea how to react. The overriding emotion was shock, but other feelings were stirring within him, jockeying for position. He had a hundred questions and no idea which one to ask first. The look on his face must have given him away, because after a moment, Kate looked at him anxiously and said, "Please say something, J."

"I…how long…when did you find out?" he stammered.

Her words came out in a rush, and she looked down and picked at her nails as she spoke, as if afraid to see his reaction. "I started feeling weird—tired—when you went to West Virginia. And I missed my period, but my period is never regular—that's why I was on the Pill—so that wasn't that unusual. I took some blood the day you came back and sent it out to get my counts and I asked them specifically to test for hCG. The counts came back normal, but it was positive for hCG." She paused, embarrassed that she was rambling. "To answer your question, the lab report was on my desk when I got to work the morning after you—" she faltered, pain flashing across her face. "The morning after you broke it off," she finished quietly.

"Oh my god," was all he could say. "Oh my god." He dropped his head into his hands, horrified that he had fated her to deal with an unplanned pregnancy by herself. After a moment, the mix of emotions within him shifted and he felt a flash of resentment that she had kept the pregnancy from him.

"Were you ever planning on telling me?" he asked, a hint of anger in his voice.

"You wanted out. I didn't want you to feel obligated," she said, not unkindly.

"Dammit, Kate!" he said, slamming his hand on the table. "I _am_ obligated! I'm this baby's father!" He lowered his voice to a whisper and looked at her pleadingly. "I'm this baby's father," he repeated.

She looked at him sadly. "Hold on. I haven't told you everything yet, J." She swallowed.

"Yesterday morning I started bleeding."

**A/N: Bwahaha. Yes, I'm evil. Won't leave you hanging long—promise. **** Also, you know I don't beg for reviews, but I'm interested to know what you guys think of the turn of events in the last few chapters. Feedback? Always appreciated—keep it nice, please. **


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I'm sorry I left you hanging for a couple of days, but I just couldn't (and still can't) get this chapter right. I hate it, but I'm frustrated with trying to fix it, so it's going out as-is. **

"Yesterday morning I started bleeding."

An ice cold fist closed around Gibbs' heart at her words. She saw the look on his face and rushed on, "I went to my OB yesterday, and he doesn't know for sure yet. My levels are very low. This is the blood work from yesterday." She pushed another sheet of paper at him. He looked down silently.

_hCG: 960 mIU/mL _

_Progesterone: 11 ng/mL_

He looked up at her, waiting for an explanation. "The hCG number should double every 2-3 days. It should be closer to three or four thousand at this point," she whispered. "And the progesterone is low, too. He gave me an injection of synthetic progesterone at the office yesterday, and it's making me feel sick, which is the…other…reason I'm having trouble eating."

"It's…because of my weight—my body is trying to get rid of the baby because it doesn't have enough resources to support it. I've lost 8 pounds in the past week." She looked at him, and he imagined he saw accusation in her eyes. "I was pretty underweight to begin with, and the added weight loss has put too much stress on my body to easily support a pregnancy, so if I don't put on some fat—quickly—I'll lose the baby for sure." She gestured at her soup. "So I'm trying to eat."

She forced down a bite of soup and continued. "I go back to the doctor tomorrow to get the hCG and progesterone levels tested again and to see if he can pick anything up on ultrasound. If my levels don't start to rise drastically and if he can't pick anything up, it probably means I've—" she stumbled over the word, "miscarried." She swallowed. "In the mean time, I've been ordered not to work."

Gibbs reached over and took one of her hands. "Can…I go with you tomorrow?" he asked in a low voice.

Kate looked up in surprise. "Do you _want_ to?"

"Of course I do." He had a small smile on his face.

"So," she said slowly, "you _want_ this baby?"

He was exasperated—just a little—and allowed it to show. "Are you serious, Kate? You realize I _lost_ a child once, right? Of course I want this baby!"

She looked at once both chagrined and pleased before turning serious once again. "Of course you can go. You didn't need to ask. As you said, you're the baby's father. But I need to know something, Jethro." She looked into his eyes. "Where do we stand?"

At this, Gibbs pushed his chair back and stood to his feet, pulling her up with him, his eyes never leaving hers. He placed one hand on her too-small waist, and the other he cupped around her neck, sweeping his thumb over her cheekbone. He pulled her close to him, and bent until his mouth was grazing her ear. "We stand," he whispered, "wherever you want us to stand. I came here this afternoon to tell you that if I could take back everything I said and did last week, I would." He paused and placed a lingering kiss just below her ear, and was pleased when she shivered lightly. "I was wrong and you were right: it was fear, plain and simple. I do love you, Katherine Andrews." He pulled back and was surprised to see her eyes shining with unshed tears.

She nodded and dropped her head as a small sob escaped her lips, and then shook her head as if to clear it. Looking back up at him, she cleared her throat and whispered, "Ok. I have just one more question, and I need your word that you'll answer honestly." He nodded at her. She took a deep breath. "If I wasn't pregnant, would you still have said what you just said?"

He stared into her eyes, trying to impress upon her the depth of his emotion as he whispered, "Every. Last. Word." He swallowed. "I'm here, and I'm not leaving. And if, God forbid, we get bad news tomorrow, _I will still be here_."

And with that, the last of Kate's limited emotional reserves were gone. She couldn't stop the flood of tears that began as relief spread through her, and Gibbs caught her as she collapsed against his chest, sobbing. She held her face down, pressing her forehead to his chest as she allowed herself to vent all of the stress of the past week in her weeping. "I was so scared," she said as her shoulders shook. "I was terrified of being pregnant and alone—with nobody there to hold my hand, no one there for the delivery, and no one to help me raise a baby." Anger swelled through her as she voiced the fears that had crippled her, and she lifted her head to face him angrily. "I can't believe you did that to me—do you have any idea how much you hurt me, Jethro? For you to just give up on us because I was born in the wrong decade?!" Almost involuntarily, she lashed out at him, and she landed a solid blow to his stomach. There was a rush of air past her ear as he grunted from the strike, and he promptly grabbed her wrists to still them. She struggled against him, and he tightened his grip, twisting her around and pulling her back tight against him to restrain her within the protection of his arms. She continued to try to free herself, and he shifted on his feet in his efforts to subdue her without hurting her. God, she was strong.

"Stop, Kate," he whispered against her ear. "You're burning calories you can't afford."

Instantly, she was still. He immediately released his too-tight grip on her and she spun away, turning to face him with ire and torment still apparent on her face. "You're a bastard and you tore me apart," she said, and then her face softened. "But I still love you."

Gibbs' face was inscrutable as he gazed at her, but she perceived the guilt hidden just beneath the surface of his stare. He didn't speak.

Her anger dissipated as quickly as it had materialized and she shook her head at the memory of the terror she had felt. "I'm so glad you came back," she whispered.

"Look at me," he commanded. He pulled her chin up. "Look into my eyes." She complied, tears still streaming down her face. He cupped her face in his hands as he spoke slowly and deliberately. "You will go through _nothing_ in this pregnancy alone. Every appointment, every ultrasound, every craving, every contraction—_I will be there." _

She looked at him, fresh fear in her eyes. "And if the worst happens?"

He swallowed and nodded. "Then—if you want—we try again."

For a moment, she had no words. Then, she blinked away the last of her tears and sucked in a shaky breath. "Do you really mean that? Or are you just feeling guilty?"

"I mean it. Now sit down and eat."

----------

She forced down the last bite of soup under Gibbs' watchful eye, and then she sighed. "Are you done hovering?" she asked.

"Kate, you've got to do better than broccoli soup."

"I'm doing the best I can," she snapped. "Do you have any idea how close I am to throwing up right now?"

The tense lines in his eyes dissipated as he looked at her. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry." He held up his hands. "But I _am_ going to the store to get you some more…calorie-dense food, and—" he paused. "Is it okay if I stay tonight?"

She gave him a 'don't-be-stupid' look.

"Okay, then I'm getting a change of clothes, too. You coming?"

"I haven't even showered today, Jethro."

"Please don't call me that."

She looked at him in confusion. "Why?"

"You never called me Jethro…before."

She watched him for a minute before slowly nodding. "Ok. I haven't even showered today, J."

He smiled. "Then go shower."

----------

Gibbs followed Kate into her bathroom and leaned against her vanity, watching as she peeled off her tank top. He watched silently as she revealed her torso—he could clearly see her ribs. When she shoved her loose sweatpants down, he winced at the way her hip bones jutted from beneath her pale skin. "God, Kate, you're skin and bones."

"It's your fault," she retorted. A look of remorse washed over his face, and she closed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm not being fair."

"No. It's okay," he said. "It is my fault."

A look of guilt crossed her face. "No. I'm responsible for my own actions." She suddenly looked mad, and her eyes filled with angry tears. "I knew I was pregnant—I should have been taking care of myself, no matter what I was going through personally. If I lose this baby I'll have no one to blame but myself!" She punctuated her statement by vehemently slamming the palm of her hand against her bathroom door.

Gibbs stepped forward and gently gripped the tops of her arms. "Stop," he said, and slid his hands down to her hips, pulling him toward her. "Stop it. What's done is done. There's nothing you can do at this point other than try to put on weight, so get in the shower so we can go grocery shopping." He kissed her forehead before turning her toward the shower and giving her a gentle push. She looked back over her shoulder gratefully and then opened the shower door, disappearing inside.

He watched her through the door for a moment before temptation overtook him, and he unclipped his gun and badge from his belt and placed them on her vanity. He undressed and slipped into the shower behind her as Kate glanced at him with surprise. "Don't worry," he murmured. "I won't get any ideas—I just want to hold you." He stepped behind her and pulled her back against him, sliding his hands down her arms to her hips. He squeezed her hips gently and then circled his hands toward her front, splaying his fingers firmly across her flat abdomen, as if to caress the life inside. He rested his chin on her shoulder and she leaned her head back against him in pleasure. They stayed like that for some moments before he gently turned her around to wet her hair beneath the steaming spray. She closed her eyes in relaxation as he once again washed her hair. When that task was completed, he pulled her back against him and she felt his arousal. "That's my cue to leave," he said wryly as he reached for the shower door.

"I'm sorry," she said over her shoulder, a look of regret on her face. "We just can't until we know…" she trailed off.

"I know," he said with understanding as he reached for a towel.

----------

The next morning, Gibbs awoke early and dressed in his work clothes. He moved quietly to the kitchen and prepared an omelet for Kate. He was just pouring the orange juice when he heard her soft footsteps enter the kitchen behind him. He turned to face her and was struck anew by how thin she was. Her hair was wet from her shower, and she was wearing a black t-shirt with jeans that were too loose for her frame.

"Hungry?" he asked hopefully.

"No," she said with dismay. "It's the progesterone. But I'll try," she said in response to the look on his face.

----------

"Are you as nervous as I am?" Gibbs murmured to Kate in the waiting room.

"Mm-hmm," she answered distractedly. Her face was the picture of calm, but he could see her anxiously clenching her fists at her sides. He reached over and pried open her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. Her hand was clammy and he could feel her pulse racing.

She looked at him gratefully and leaned over. "Um, listen," she said quietly. "I want to apologize for…my behavior last night—all of it. It's not like me to sob or go into hysterics, and it's, um," she hung her head in shame, "_definitely_ not like me to get violent." She paused. "I'm so sorry, J," she said, gently touching his abdomen where she'd punched him. "Does it hurt?"

"I'm okay," he said. "And you don't need to apologize. I deserved every bit of it, and you've had a…stressful…week, to say the least."

She nodded and squeezed his hand. Moments later, the door to the waiting room opened and the nurse called her name. She took a deep breath and stood with Gibbs, leading him back. The nurse led them back to a phlebotomist for the blood draw. Gibbs sat across from her and watched, silently, as Kate kept her eyes closed and head bowed through the entire procedure. Her right hand was clenched in an anxious fist until it was over.

They entered the exam room and Kate removed her clothing, replacing it with a generic gown, and still neither of them spoke. She perched on the table and fiddled with her nails until the silence was too deafening for Gibbs to take. He stood in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Kate. Relax," he whispered.

She looked up at him and wordlessly shook her head. At that moment, there was a light knock and the doctor entered. Gibbs stood back as Kate greeted him. "Hey," she said. She gestured toward Gibbs and began to say, "Chris, this is Jethro –" before she saw the sheet of paper in his hand and immediately asked, "What are the numbers, Chris?"

Seeing her anxiety, he immediately looked down at the paper. "Better. hCG is just over 2000 and progesterone is at 14. I've got to do an ultrasound before I can call it one way or another, Kate." She relaxed infinitesimally as he pulled up a chair and rolled the ultrasound machine from the corner. "Do you want to finish your introductions now?" he asked with a smile.

"Uh, yeah," she said as she placed her feet in the stirrups. "This is Jethro Gibbs. He's…the father." The statement sounded weird to her ears. "J, this is Chris Watson. We were in both undergrad and medical school together at Penn."

"Nice to meet you," the doctor said, shaking Gibbs' hand. Gibbs nodded nervously, relieved that the doctor didn't seem at all surprised by how much older he was. Chris washed his hands and snapped on latex gloves. "How's the bleeding?" he asked as he turned on the machine.

Gibbs watched with interest as Kate's demeanor transformed into something else entirely: she was suddenly calm and cool, with an almost disinterested look. "Better yesterday, none today so far. I've tried to eat, but the progesterone is making me sick."

Chris nodded as he slipped a cover over the ultrasound probe. "Little cold," he warned as he inserted it.

Gibbs watched, confused. "I thought you did it on the abdomen."

"Too early," answered Kate and Chris simultaneously, their eyes riveted to the screen.

Kate continued without looking at him. "It'll be a few more weeks before you can pick anything up from outside." She suddenly let out a relieved sigh.

"That's encouraging," Chris said, nodding.

Gibbs let out a frustrated sigh. "What is?" The screen was nothing but a black and gray blur to him.

"See this large black area? There's no detail yet, but that's the pregnancy itself. This doesn't tell us whether it's still viable, but it does tell us that it's still implanted in the uterus. That's not to say that a miscarriage is not in progress," he warned. "But with what I'm seeing here, in addition to the increase in hCG, I'm cautiously optimistic." He withdrew the probe and Kate dropped her legs from the stirrups. "Come back Monday and we'll run more blood and see if we can pick up a heartbeat. In the meantime, go home and eat, and we'll do another progesterone shot."

Kate shook her head. "No. Pick one. Where's your priority, Chris, weight gain or progesterone? I can't do both. If you want me to eat, I can't do the shot. Everything I ate Wednesday came back up."

Gibbs opened his mouth to protest, and she held up a thin hand. "Shut it, Jethro." He grinned at her in spite of himself.

Chris sighed and looked at her disapprovingly. "Fine. Eat."

She nodded. "Sex?" Jethro raised his eyebrows.

"Nope. Not until I call it one way or the other. Sorry, bud," he said in Jethro's direction.

Gibbs was on the verge of being embarrassed for a moment, but Kate and Chris had launched into a discussion full of medical terminology that he didn't understand. He listened as they threw around terms like "spontaneous abortion," "D & C," and "CRL," and was again struck by Kate's apparent disinterest. After a moment, the doctor left and Kate hopped off the table to dress.

She looked up and noticed Gibbs frowning at her. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Aren't you happy?"

"Of course," he said. "I'm just wondering whether you are."

She looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

"You just sounded so completely detached—like you were talking about like a pair of shoes instead of our baby," he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Kate, who had been in the middle of buckling her belt, stopped cold. She moved toward him and bent the top of her head to his chest as her hands found his waist. "J," she whispered, "being detached is the only way I can deal with it in order to process everything and make good decisions for the baby." She squeezed his sides and lifted her head. "I didn't mean to seem like I don't care." She looked to the side, not meeting his eyes. "When you…left, although I was terrified, I also thought this might be my only chance to be a mother. Trust me," she said, "I am deeply vested in this pregnancy."

Gibbs nodded, his throat tight. He kissed the top of her head. "I'm going to go into work for a few hours, but first, we're getting pizza."


	19. Chapter 19

The weekend passed slowly, and when they weren't arguing over her food consumption, they were apologizing for the bruises they'd inflicted on each other—she for the nice one she'd landed below his ribs, and he for the ten small bruises around her wrists where he'd restrained her. He practically force-fed her the most fattening foods he could think of—pizza, hamburgers, and Mexican take-out—until she begged him to stop, claiming he was trying to kill her with a heart attack.

It was Sunday morning when Gibbs finally thought to ask her the question, "What did your parents say?"

She ducked her head and avoided his eyes as she said, "They don't know yet."

He stared at her.

Irritation flickered in her eyes. "What was I supposed to say, J?" she asked. " 'Hey, Mom, Dad, guess what—I'm pregnant. Where is he? I have no idea…he bailed before I could even tell him.' "

Gibbs looked heavenward and put his hands on his hips. "I guess you have a point." Another thought occurred to him. "Do they know…about…" He didn't know what to call it. The phrase "break-up" brought to mind high school, but he didn't know how else to label it.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "It wasn't my intention to discuss it with either of them, but I couldn't avoid my mom's phone calls forever, so I finally had to talk to her last Monday." She looked down at her hands and her voice dropped in volume. "She could tell immediately that something was wrong, so I just told her that it was over between us. She pressed for more, but I didn't feel like sharing. All I said was that our age difference was too much for you." She blew out a sigh as she bent over and rested her elbows on her kitchen counter. "And now I get to go back and tell them that not only are we back together, I'm pregnant."

"So when will that be?" he pressed, rubbing her back.

She shrugged. "Not until we know something for certain. And if we get…bad news…then not at all. Why open that can of worms? Especially with my dad," she added.

Gibbs mentally cringed at the idea of having to tell Rich Andrews that he had impregnated—and then left—his daughter.

He rolled his eyes and said, "Should I wear Kevlar?"

She smirked. "He was a sniper, J. If he decided to shoot you—which he just might—he wouldn't be aiming at your chest."

"Good point."

----------

Monday morning they awoke early for Kate's appointment with the doctor. Gibbs dressed in his work clothes, clipping his badge and gun on as Kate dried her hair in the bathroom. She seemed somewhat more relaxed this morning, and he was pleased when she weighed and said she'd gained four pounds.

When they were nearly ready to go, Gibbs leaned against Kate's front door as she put her shoes on. He caught her staring intently at him time and time again, and he finally asked her what she was thinking.

"Do you remember when you said you couldn't figure out what I saw in you?" Gibbs nodded, and she sidled closer to him. "Well, let me clue you in," she murmured in a throaty voice. She reached down for his hand and laced her fingers through his, bringing it up in front of her chest. She turned his hand over as she inspected it, and she looked up at him. "Your hands were the second thing I noticed about you. Your hands are strong…masculine…" She caressed his fingers with her lips and looked up at him. Her blue eyes were dark as she said, "I will readily admit that it didn't take me long to imagine what these hands might feel like roaming my body."

Gibbs' heart rate picked up just a bit as he said, "What was the first thing?"

"Mmm," she smiled. She released his hand and drew her fingers up to his face. She gently traced a line across his forehead until her finger came to the corner of his eye. "Your…piercing blue eyes," she breathed. "You can still make me go weak in the knees with just a look." She slowly drew her hand down to his mouth and lightly ran a finger across his lips. "Then there are these lips." She gave a devilish smile as she said, "I suppose my imagination was working overtime, because before I knew it, I was fantasizing about your lips on my shoulders, my chest, my stomach…"

He was breathing a little more heavily as she dropped her hand to his chest and brought her left hand up to join it. "And then, of course, is your body. You were wearing khaki pants and a short-sleeved black polo shirt when you walked into my office, and I was struggling to keep my concentration on your questions and not on the way your chest and arms looked in that shirt." She ran one hand down his chest and tapped her nail lightly on the badge clipped to his belt. "And then there's that, of course," she said with a teasing smile. "All women are suckers for a man with a badge."

Gibbs rolled his head back and heaved out a sigh. "Kate, I'm supposed to be trying to _not_ have sex with you, remember?"

She grinned. But she wasn't done.

"That's just the bullshit outside stuff, though."

He pulled his head up in surprise and raised his eyebrows at her. She continued. "J, as amazingly, incredibly sexy as I think you are on the outside, this—" she tapped her fingers on his heart, "is what interests me the most."

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his mouth lightly. "When you were in my office that first day, and I told you that Hannah said that her uncle molested her, you reacted. It was very subtle, but you got this pissed look in your eyes, and I knew right then that you weren't just some hardened, jaded investigator. I could see that you actually cared. And I liked that." She smiled. "You are so passionate about your job, and the best part is, you actually make a difference in people's lives." She leaned close and grazed his ear with her lips. "_That_ is what I see in you, Jethro Gibbs."

----------

This time, when the phlebotomist drew blood, Kate sat directly across from Jethro and never broke eye contact with him. Gibbs was surprised to see a sort of quiet, shining triumph in her eyes as they bored into his. As she stood, he gave her the crooked half-smile she loved so well and she broke into a grin in response. "It's going to be fine," she smiled, her voice calm and confident.

In the exam room, she repeated Friday's routine of undressing and situating herself on the exam table. She and Jethro were talking quietly when the doctor knocked and entered with the blood work results. "Good news, Kate," he said with a smile. "The numbers are much better. hCG is at 4400 and progesterone is still at 14, which is fine." Kate sighed with relief and Gibbs released some of the tension he hadn't even realized he'd been holding in his body. "Let's see what we have on ultrasound," Chris continued.

Kate obediently placed her feet in the stirrups and leaned up on her elbows to get a better look at the ultrasound monitor. When Chris inserted the probe, she looked intently at the screen for several seconds until she finally closed her eyes and dropped her head back to the exam table with a thud as she let out a small sob. Gibbs' heart sank for a split second until he realized that the doctor was grinning and saying, "Well, look what we have here."

"What?" he asked anxiously.

Kate lifted her head and smiled at him through the tears that were coursing down her face. "Look closely at the middle of the light gray spot. See that tiny movement?" Gibbs squinted for a moment and then nodded. "That's a heartbeat, J."

Gibbs breathed out in awe as he squinted at the tiny motion on the screen. Chris laughed and hit a button, then watched as the machine spat out a tiny printout of the image on the screen. He handed it to Kate and said, "Here, have a souvenir." Kate grinned in response and Chris continued, "Ok, it looks like you're in the clear, but I want you to come back Friday for one more round of blood work and another ultrasound. If everything still looks good, you won't have to come back for four more weeks."

Kate nodded. "Can I go back to work?"

Chris shook his head. "Wait until after we see what we've got on Friday."

Kate pursed her lips, unhappy. Then she rather bluntly said, "Sex?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes at Kate as Chris pressed his lips together and examined her thoughtfully. He glanced at Gibbs, who made a show of looking innocent, before he said, "Yeah…just don't overdo it."

"Exercise?" Kate asked hopefully.

"No," said Chris. Seeing the look on her face, he held up his hands and said, "You get to 115 pounds and stay there and you can work out all you want."

Kate looked at the ceiling in frustration. "Look, Chris—"

He interrupted. "Kate, I know how important physical conditioning is to you. I've seen you compete. If you want, you can do yoga. But if you start real cardio again, that weight will fall back off. Gain some first, and then you can have the all-clear."

Kate dropped her head, resigned. "No work and no exercise? What the hell am I supposed to _do_ all week?" she asked in frustration.

Chris looked at her, unfazed, and said, "Eat. And gestate."

----------

Gibbs and Kate walked to the parking lot, hand-in-hand. Neither of them had said a word since leaving the exam room, and just before they reached the car, he finally stole a look at her. She looked back at him and broke into a wide grin, reaching for him. She snaked her hands around his neck in joy, and, caught up in the moment, he picked her up, spinning her around once before setting her back down.

She hugged him tightly and then pulled back, kissing his cheek. "Told you it would be fine," she whispered.

"Yep," he replied, opening the car door for her.

He got in on the driver's side, and she looked at him ruefully. "Are you going to work, or are you coming home to have sex with me?" she asked bluntly.

Gibbs groaned and rolled his head back onto the headrest. "That's so unfair, Kate." He gave her a doleful look. "How on earth am I supposed to make myself go into work with an offer like that on the table?"

She smirked, happy to have so clearly tempted him. "Fine, go to work, then. But," she warned teasingly, "you better clear your schedule for me tonight."

He gave her a sideways glance. "Uh, not a problem."

----------

Tony looked at his watch for the tenth time. "It's ten a.m.," he said to Ziva. "First he takes off early on Thursday, then comes in late on Friday, and now he's late again? It's not like Gibbs to—"

"Not like Gibbs to what, DiNozzo?"

Tony closed his eyes. "Nothing, Boss…uhh…everything okay?" he asked cautiously as Gibbs sat down at his desk.

"Yep."

"O…kay…" Tony said, obviously dying of curiosity as to what Gibbs had been up to.

Gibbs looked up in irritation. "Do you need a formal invitation, DiNozzo?"

"Uh, right, Boss. Um, we've got a report of two AWOL sailors being spotted in a hotel in Annandale. They're suspected of being involved in a major drug ring. They went AWOL three months ago when they got wind that they were under investigation. McGee's running down the case file right now…"

"Let's go," Gibbs said, slipping into Agent mode and grabbing his jacket.

----------

It was 7:00 and Gibbs was starving. He had stopped by his house to grab a change of clothes before heading back to Kate's house. Pulling into her driveway, he steeled himself for what was to come. Not only had she been expecting him much earlier than seven, she would more than likely not be thrilled with his reason for being late.

He grabbed his bag and let himself into her house. "Hey," she called from the kitchen. "I was getting worried."

He inhaled the scent of something Italian and his stomach grumbled in response. Might as well get it over with so he could eat. He walked into the kitchen, shrugging out of his jacket and dropping his bag on the floor on his way. "Sorry I'm late," he murmured. "Rough day."

She turned from the salad she was making and frowned at his arm. "What happened to your sweater?" she asked, staring at the singed hole in the left arm of his thin pullover.

He sighed. "I got grazed."

Kate stopped cold. "By. What." she said, her teeth clenched. She knew perfectly well the answer to the question.

Gibbs cocked his head sideways and downward in a 'don't do this' look.

"Somebody shot at you?" she questioned. Suddenly, her demeanor changed. "Take your shirt off," she commanded.

"I'm fine, Kate. It happens. Ducky already treated it."

"Take it off."

Gibbs sighed again. He knew it was about to get worse. He reached down and gripped the hem of his thin sweater, pulling it up and over his head, along with the t-shirt underneath. Kate's eyes went first to the bandage on his arm, and then, widening, to the large, dark, perfectly round bruise two inches above his left nipple.

"J, what is that bruise from?" she asked warily, fearing she knew the answer.

Gibbs was done tiptoeing. She was going to have to get used to his job and the accompanying dangers if she wanted to be with him. "His second shot was better than his first," he said wryly.

She glared daggers at him. "It's not funny, J. You realize that's directly over your heart, right?"

"I guess it's lucky I was wearing Kevlar, then."

"And where is the man who shot you now?"

"On Ducky's autopsy table."

Kate narrowed her eyes. "Good." Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Who got him, you or one of your team?"

"I did."

She smirked. "Good," she repeated forcefully. She eyed the bruise and bandage. "Are you sore?"

"Nah," he lied. "I'm fine."

"Does it happen a lot?" Her face and voice were calm but there was fear in her eyes.

"From time to time." He leaned in to kiss her tenderly, hoping to make her forget about it. Kate kissed him back, hard, thankful that he was an expert with firearms.

"By the way," she said when she pulled away, "do you think you can be here by six tomorrow night? You know, if you don't have anyone trying to kill you?"

"I guess so," he shrugged. "Why?"

She raised one eyebrow at him, gauging him. "Because I invited my parents for dinner so we could give them the good news."

"Ah," he said with a nod. He wasn't looking forward to it—at all—but he didn't want her to know that. "Great," he said. "Do you think your dad will take pity on me since I've already taken two bullets this week?" he joked.

The look Kate shot him was more than enough to shut him up.

----------

That night before bed, Kate carefully peeled off the bandage covering the wound on Jethro's arm to assess the damage for herself. She looked approvingly at the five tiny stitches that Ducky had used to suture the wound closed. "It doesn't look bad," she mused.

"I knew that already," Gibbs said mildly. "Trust me, I've had much worse."

Kate stopped and stared at him incredulously. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" She sighed and replaced the bandage with a fresh one before ordering him into her bed. He obeyed and then watched as she shed her clothing and climbed in after him. "I don't suppose you feel like—" was all she got of her mouth before he was on top of her, pressing her down against her pillow with his body. He favored his uninjured arm as he supported his weight over her, kissing her hard. The wound on his arm throbbed fiercely, but his need for her was much more intense—and judging by the fervor with which she kissed him back, her own need was equally as acute. He panted against her skin as he kissed her, raking his lips down her neck and breathing in her scent before continuing the trail between her breasts and down to her flat abdomen. He lingered here, gently kissing her lower belly before raising himself back up to look at her. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and her eyes were luminous and filled with naked desire as she took him in. Longing overwhelmed him as he looked at her, and he suppressed a growl as he pushed himself back up to the head of the bed to capture her lips in his once again.

He tried to remind himself to be gentle with her, but she moved against him with such rampant neediness that he found it almost impossible to restrain his physical response to her. She took care to steer clear of his bandaged arm, but kissed him with an abandon that was almost angry in its urgency. When he finally entered her a moment later, he dropped his head with the exquisite relief of feeling her once again, and she gasped, "Oh, god, I missed you. "

There was nothing gentle, nothing delicate about their lovemaking. They were simply two lovers who had been bereft of each other for far too long. He pushed her to the edge and pulled her back time and again, delaying the inevitable plunge for both of them. When she finally ground out, "_Give,_" to him, he relented and they crashed over the precipice together, clutching each other hard enough to leave bruises before collapsing together in a tangled heap onto her pillows.

Some moments later, as their heart rates were finally returning to normal, he murmured something as he stared at the ceiling. "Got a question."

She rolled over onto her side and looked at him in anticipation.

Still training his eyes on her ceiling, he asked, "What about you? Would you have taken me back if you weren't pregnant?"

She grinned mischievously. "I probably would have given you a lot more grief first, but," her smile softened, "yeah. I would have taken you back, without a doubt." She winced. "I can say with a fair amount of certainty that you are the _only_ person on earth I can think of to which that would apply, by the way. I'm not the needy, pining type."

"Which is why I love you," he said quietly as she nestled into his arms.


	20. Chapter 20

Gibbs let himself into Kate's house at six sharp the next evening and was immediately put to work grilling steaks on the back deck as she finished the salad. When he re-entered her kitchen with the finished steaks on a platter, he asked her if her parents knew he would be there. She nodded in response. "I told them we worked things out and you'd be joining us."

"Why do they think they're coming for dinner?"

"I told him I hadn't talked to them much lately and wanted to spend the evening with them."

Gibbs nodded, curious as to what her parents' response to him would be this time.

At 6:25, the doorbell rang, and Kate raised her eyebrows at him in "here we go" fashion as she wiped her hands on a towel and headed for the door. Gibbs hung back as she opened the door to her parents and hugged them happily. Her mother breezed in and greeted Gibbs graciously once again. "So good to see you again, Jethro," she smiled, her voice full of meaning. Gibbs smiled in response as he shook her hand.

Rich Andrews was somewhat less enthusiastic, reaching his hand out wordlessly with a single raised eyebrow. Gibbs gave him a firm handshake in response, refusing to be intimidated. "Nice to see you again, Rich," he spoke unflinchingly. Rich Andrews only nodded in response.

Kate swept in and directed her parents to the dining room. "Steaks are ready," she said, "and I'm just getting ready to pull the potatoes out of the oven. Have a seat."

Moments later, the four of them were seated at the table, ready to eat. "Aren't you forgetting something, Katherine?" her mother asked, smiling. Kate looked at her questioningly. "Wine?" her mother clarified.

Kate avoided looking at Jethro as she rose from her seat. "Ah, yes," she said. "Wine." She'd hoped to avoid this. She removed three wine glasses from her hutch and grabbed the first bottle of merlot she put her hands on. She quickly popped the cork and filled the three glasses before sitting back down.

"Aren't you having any, Katherine?" her mother asked curiously. Kate exchanged the very briefest of looks with Gibbs. Her hand was going to be forced.

"Nah, I'm not really in the mood for wine," she said nonchalantly.

Laura furrowed her eyebrows. "What? You're never not in the mood for wi—" She froze. "Oh my god." Kate met Gibbs' eyes. Game over. "Oh my god," her mother repeated.

Rich looked from his wife to his daughter in confusion. "What did I miss?" he said.

Laura looked at her daughter. "Something you want to share?" she asked.

Kate sighed. She looked down at her as-yet-untouched steak and then back up to her mom. "You might want to clear your schedule for mid-June," she shrugged, giving a small smile.

Laura Andrews' face was totally blank for a moment, and then she broke into a wide smile. Before she could speak, her husband asked again, with irritation this time, what he had missed. Laura reached over and placed her right hand on his left. "What your daughter is trying to say, sweetie, is that you're going to be a grandfather."

Rich Andrews narrowed his eyes as he stared at his daughter. Kate employed every ounce of her self-assurance to keep from squirming under his gaze. She confidently met his eyes with a small smile, until finally, he looked away—toward Jethro, who gazed back at him, expressionless. "Indeed?" he finally said, turning his head back toward his daughter, while still boring holes into Jethro's face with his eyes.

"Uh, Dad, I'm over here, and for the record, it takes two to tango, so you can stop glaring daggers in J's general direction now," Kate bristled, letting her feisty side show.

Rich finally tore his eyes away from Gibbs and slid them toward his daughter. "How did this happen, Katherine?" he asked sharply.

Kate smirked in irritation. "Do you really need me to break it down for you, Dad?"

Rich blew out an exasperated sigh. "Watch your tone, Katherine."

"Rich," Laura warned, placing her hand back on his.

Kate rankled once again. "Dad, I didn't ask you here to seek your forgiveness or your permission. In case you hadn't noticed, I am an adult and am capable of making my own decisions and taking care of myself." Gibbs raised an eyebrow as she grew more agitated. "No, this wasn't a planned pregnancy, obviously, but it is what it is, so I suggest you deal with it." She sanguinely met her father's gaze and did not waver as he stared back at her. Finally, after a tense moment that seemed to go on for eternity, Rich Andrews blinked and looked away. He breathed out and allowed his shoulders to slump just slightly in defeat.

"You're right, Katherine," he spoke quietly. "You're right," he repeated. "I'm not being fair. I'm sorry." He took a deep breath and seemed to align himself with the situation. When he looked back up, he had a somewhat forced smile on his face. "So…June, huh?"

Kate grinned as she picked up her knife and fork and began to eat. "Mm-hmm," she said. "Around the 11th or a little later." She slid her eyes over to Jethro and gave a look of distaste as she saw the condition of his steak. "J, that thing's still breathing," she said in disgust.

"They taste better when they're still trying to get up and walk away," he grinned around his mouthful of steak.

Rich Andrews gave a hearty laugh, and Kate relaxed as she focused on her dinner.

----------

Dinner was over and Kate was clearing the dishes when Rich leaned toward Gibbs and said, "Join me outside?"

Gibbs nodded in response and questioned, "Bourbon?" Rich Andrews nodded his assent and Jethro rose to pour two tumblers of bourbon before following Kate's father out onto her back deck. He felt at once both patient and exasperated—patient because he knew that Kate's father was just being a father, and that if he had ever been put in the same situation with Kelly, he likely would have reacted in similar fashion, if not worse; and exasperated because as much as he understood, it was still off-putting to be a 51 years old and feel like he needed to explain himself to a man only a few years older than he.

The early October air was crisp and clean as the two men stepped to the edge of the deck and leaned their elbows on it. Gibbs sipped his bourbon and waited. After a moment, Rich turned to him and said, "So what happened? Last thing I hear is you two have split up, and now you're not only back together, but she's pregnant." Gibbs nodded, waiting for Rich to get out whatever it was he needed to say. "Is it just for the baby?" he asked.

Gibbs shook his head. "No."

"So you do love her."

Gibbs nodded as he looked out over the backyard.

"So why leave in the first place?"

Gibbs sighed. It was none of Kate's father's business, but he would be doing Kate no favors if he pissed off her dad. Best to give him an inscrutable answer. "Let's just say I had a lapse in judgment and thankfully, came to my senses."

And finally Rich got to his point. He turned toward Jethro and said, "So my question is, what are you going to do now?"

Gibbs exhaled with thinly disguised frustration and stood up straight, drawing his shoulders back as he turned to face Kate's father. "Why don't you just ask me straight, Rich?" His eyes held something of a challenge in them.

"Fine, Jethro. Do you intend to marry my daughter?"

"I've known her less than two months—"

"It was long enough for you to get her pregnant, apparently."

Gibbs gripped his bourbon, unwilling to let his temper show. He owed it to Kate to keep his cool for once. He clenched his teeth together for a moment before answering. "Do you really want me to marry your daughter for no other reason than an unplanned pregnancy?" he asked in a low voice.

Kate's father blew out a heavy breath as he turned and leaned his back against the railing on the deck. "No. No, that's not what I want for her. I just want to know that you're not going to turn around and run again."

Gibbs turned to look Rich Andrews with a steely-eyed stare. "Sir, you and I are both Marines. You should know better than anyone that a Marine does not run from responsibility."

Rich peered at him for several seconds before nodding in acceptance. He looked into the distance, silent. Apparently he had said all he needed to.

Gibbs allowed himself a small smile as he leaned in, clearing his throat, and lowered his voice, glancing back at the house. "Give me until November 14th," he said. Rich Andrews raised his eyebrows in question. "I'm taking her to the Commandant's Birthday Ball," Gibbs murmured in explanation.

Kate's father pursed his lips and looked impressed. He considered a moment and then stuck out his hand, grinning. "I suppose you'll do," he said with a nod.

----------

Jethro Gibbs and Rich Andrews stood outside, enjoying the cool October air for a bit longer until Jethro had finished off his bourbon. He excused himself for a refill and let himself back inside.

Gibbs paused in the dining room as he quietly refilled his tumbler with bourbon. Kate and her mother were in the kitchen, and he could hear them talking in low voices.

"You'll have to forgive your daddy, sweetheart. He's just being a dad. _I, _on the other hand, am absolutely thrilled, if you didn't notice." Gibbs heard the sound of Kate's quiet laugh float out of the kitchen. "Will you get married?" Laura questioned.

"I don't know," Kate murmured quietly. "He hasn't mentioned it, and I'm not going to bring it up." She paused before continuing. "I don't need him to put a ring on my finger to know that he loves me, Mom."

Gibbs cocked his head to the side and smiled to himself as he stole out of the dining room and back outside.

----------

Later that night, Jethro Gibbs stood in his basement, situating two saw horses next to his boat. He ran his hands along the ash wood that he had had delivered earlier that day. He reached over to his work bench for his measuring tape and a pencil, and got to work on his Christmas present for Kate.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Allow me to offer my profoundest apologies for the long delay. Not only have I been extremely busy, this is another bridge chapter, and frankly…I hate writing them. I really do. I always look at them and say, "Well, THAT sucks." So please forgive me for both the delay and the sub-par writing. I give you my WORD that the next chapter will be chock-full of yummy goodness. And it won't take nearly as long. **

As the next few weeks passed, Kate was given the "all-clear" to return to work, she and Gibbs fell into something of a routine. He was surprised at how very domestic it felt, being with Kate, and even more surprised at how naturally he fell back into the routine of being one-half of a couple after his years of solitude. He slept at Kate's house more nights than not, but neither of them seemed willing to be the first to broach the topic of cohabitation. He had taken the step of buying an extra toothbrush to keep at her house, but that was as far as it went.

Kate remained free from morning sickness, but admitted that she was more exhausted than she had ever been in her life and most nights she was sleeping deeply by nine o'clock. Gibbs usually found himself next to her in bed, glasses pushed down on his nose, reading by the light of the lamp as she snuggled in next to him. During these quiet moments, he would often look over his glasses at her and smile as he watched her breathe slowly, surprised at his level of contentment.

It had not escaped the notice of his team that he was working far fewer hours these days, and he had overheard DiNozzo and McGee on more than one occasion gossiping in whispers while Ziva remained steadfastly silent. Gibbs grinned to himself around the corner as he heard Tony ask Ziva why she wasn't weighing in on the topic. Gibbs had no worries about Ziva breaking his confidence, and he smiled at her evasive reply. "Gibbs' personal life is none of my concern, and if you know what is good for you, it will not be your concern, either," she informed him icily. He wiped the smile off of his face and chose that moment to make his entrance.

"Somethin' you wanna ask me, DiNozzo?" Ziva laughed out loud and Tony shot her a glare.

"Uh, no, Boss." Gibbs suppressed a smile as Tony hightailed it to his desk and pretended to look busy.

---------

To Gibbs' great surprise, he found himself opening up more and more to Kate about himself. He told her, in detail, about each of his marriages, and he also shared the heartbreak he had experienced in losing Jenny—twice. Kate merely nodded in understanding with each of his revelations as she began to understand him more and more. His explanations made clear to her the reason that he had left her so abruptly before. She bore no ill-will toward him for his actions after hearing the anguish that he had suffered time and again because of love. It seemed to Kate that Jethro had suffered through more heartbreak than any man should in a lifetime.

"What was so special about her?" she asked him curiously as he spoke of Jenny.

He thought for a moment before responding. "I really can't say. It's not the sort of thing you can put your finger on. We just…connected." He shrugged.

"Like us," Kate interjected.

"Exactly," he said. "I thought Jen and I had a future together. But I was wrong."

"So you wondered if maybe you were wrong again," Kate concluded.

Gibbs nodded.

Kate sauntered forward in the direction of the couch, where Gibbs was sitting. She leaned down and lazily draped herself over the arm of it as she leaned close to him and whispered in a silky voice, "You're not wrong this time, J."

He allowed a small smile to move over his lips as he took her face in his hands and kissed her gently. "No. I'm not," was all he said.

----------

He surprised her one day when she asked him what his teammates thought of the fact that was going to be a father in a few months. "They don't know," he said mildly.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You haven't told your team?"

Gibbs shrugged. "It's not really any of their business."

Kate was confused. "But you talk about them as if they're family." With her prodding, Gibbs had shared enough stories that she felt as if she knew his teammates personally, despite having never interacted with any of them for more than a few moments. "Why wouldn't you want them to know? You'll have to tell them at some point, you know," she pointed out.

He nodded, silent.

"What's the problem, J?" Kate asked, genuinely baffled.

Gibbs sighed. He didn't want to give her the wrong impression—that he was embarrassed of her. "It's just that I'm normally…very private. I don't talk a lot about myself. It's easier for me if I keep my personal and professional lives separate…like I told you before." He paused. "And then there's DiNozzo," he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"What about him?"

"I don't really have a great desire to sit around listening to him crack jokes about 'the Bossman nailing the hot young doctor,' or listen to _another damn word_ about how many times I've been married and what odds he's laying that you're the next ex-Mrs. Gibbs," he muttered.

Kate snorted. "I need to hang out with this guy," she laughed.

Gibbs glanced at her sharply. "No, you don't. Unless you want to experience firsthand the carnage that is Anthony DiNozzo trying to woo a woman. And trust me, he'd try," he grunted.

"That bad, huh?"

"Pretty much. He's a good guy, really," he said, and his voice was full of affection. "But he's got a lot of insecurities. Fancies himself a huge ladies' man."

"And what of your other team members?"

Gibbs cracked a smile. "A motley crew. There's the Mossad assassin—Ziva," he clarified, "the MIT-trained computer whiz that can hack anything, anywhere, anytime—that would be McGee, and our resident forensics specialist, Abby, who is the happiest Goth girl you've ever seen—though she's not technically part of our team. She's my favorite," he said, unabashedly.

"And why is that?"

He tilted his head to the side. "She's not afraid of me."

"Why would anyone be afraid of you?"

He smiled sardonically. "I have…a _way_…on the job. I don't like to fool around, and I _bark_ a lot, or so I'm told." He shrugged. "Abby is never fazed when I snap at her, and she's always unfailingly happy. It's endearing and innocent, in a way. She's so unique."

"And Ziva? Is _she_ afraid of you?"

"Definitely not," he answered, amused. "Ziva fears very little. Perhaps emotional attachment." He paused. "She and I are a lot alike in that respect." He paused again. "She saved my life." Kate raised an eyebrow. Gibbs shared—very briefly—the story of Ziva's half brother and Kate's eyes widened in awe. He sensed that Gibbs had a great amount of respect and affection for Ziva. She wanted to know more, but didn't want to push. She decided to change the subject.

"What about Ducky?"

"Our medical examiner—the one who stitched me up before, when I got shot at. Scottish. Loves tea. Likes to tell long, rambling stories that never seem to end," he quipped. "I've known him the longest. A good friend," he noted.

"You know, I'd like to actually meet these people in a social situation," she said pointedly. "Unless," she needled, "you're ashamed."

"I'm not ashamed, Kate," he growled. "I just don't like opening myself up for—"

"For what?"

He sighed. "I don't know."

"I think you just don't like opening yourself up, period," she said seriously, eyeing him contemplatively. "But you don't seem to have a problem with that when it comes to me," she said. "Why is that, do you think?" she asked curiously.

He met her eyes without hesitation. She saw nothing but openness there. "I couldn't say," he said evenly. "There's something about you that makes it easy to open up." He glanced away. "I find myself _wanting_ to share things with you."

"Mmm," was all she said, smiling as she reached for his hand.

----------

The next Tuesday, he let himself into her house after work and all was silent. It was her day off, and he wondered if she might be sleeping. Her exhaustion had been overwhelming, and he was concerned because she continued to push herself at work, while spending every spare moment sleeping at home. In fact, her fatigue was _so _pervasive that it had been two weeks since they'd made love. He wandered back to her bedroom and was surprised to find her bed empty. He heard running water and, pushing open the door to her bathroom, found her soaking languidly in the big garden tub, her thick hair knotted atop her head. "Mmm, hi," she said placidly.

"Hi," he answered. "How was your day?"

"Lazy," she smiled. "I slept through most of it," she said sheepishly.

Gibbs smiled indulgently at her. "Good. Your body is working hard. You deserve the rest." As he spoke, he moved toward the tub, removing his shoes and socks. He rolled up his pants legs and stepped into the tub, seating himself on the edge. Kate responded to his gesture by maneuvering herself obediently in his direction. She relaxed against the side of the tub as his strong hands gripped her shoulders and massaged gently. "How do you feel?" he asked quietly.

"Good," she said. "In fact," she said, twisting her head around to look at him mischievously, "I think I have a _bit_ more energy than I've had lately." There was a twinkle in her eyes as she turned and reached for his collar, pulling him down toward her. He acquiesced easily, sliding into the tub into her arms, clothes and all.

"Mmm," he murmured, sinking down onto his knees in the water as she kissed him. "Gun, badge, wallet," he mumbled against her lips, fumbling to remove the aforementioned items before they were ruined. Kate laughed and grappled for his gun and badge as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket. Kate tossed the gun and badge roughly on the counter as Gibbs followed closely with his wallet. Once he had removed the valuables, he sank into the water with her and allowed his lips to tangle mercilessly with hers. She tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it carelessly to the side. She sighed happily as she ran her hands over his bare shoulders, caressing his muscles. She moved her hands south, and was aroused as she felt his muscular pecs. When she reached his waist, she made quick work of his belt and began to shove his pants roughly down his hips. He shifted his hips in accommodation as he buried his lips in her neck, kissing her ravenously. She palmed him eagerly, and his lips trailed down to her breasts. He trailed his tongue gently, experimentally, over the nipples that had been unbearably sensitive of late and was pleased when he received nothing more than a mild moan in response. He tenderly took a nipple into his mouth and sucked reverently until she jerked his head up and kissed him hungrily. He pressed his erection against her and began to spread her legs in anticipation. He wanted nothing more than to make love to the mother of his child, and he ached for her. He positioned himself and as he entered her, she grunted softly and pulled away.

"Not comfortable, oof," she muttered as she pushed up out of the water. "Bed," she commanded, stepping out of the tub and quickly drying herself. Gibbs stood and watched her move, aroused. Pregnancy was a turn-on for him. He had never been as physically attracted to Shannon as he had been when she was carrying Kelly and the same was true for Kate. He looked appreciatively at Kate's already-swollen breasts and curving hips. Her stomach was still taut and flat, but the weight she'd managed to gain had gone to all the right places, transforming her from too-thin to curvaceously feminine. Sighing with pleasure, he followed her into her bedroom and scooped her up just before she reached the bed, laying her on it gently. She grinned at him and he crawled onto the bed with her, straddling her legs as he leaned down to kiss her slowly. After a moment, she broke the kiss, growling, "Forget the foreplay. I want you inside me. _Now._" Acquiescing, he shifted so that he was between her legs, and entered her for the second time. Kate made a noise that was part sigh, part murmur and allowed her eyes to roll back in pleasure. "Damn, J. That feels _amazing_," she mumbled, bucking her hips against him. She reached up to grip his shoulders as she moved more insistently against him. He pressed himself into her, wondering how long he could hold off. It had been a long two weeks. Kate gasped beneath him as he moved, and before long, she was uttering, "More…more, J. Don't stop," between gasps. She was tight and the pleasure was intense; he felt his control slipping. He supported himself with his left hand as he grasped her left breast with his right hand, kneading it.

"How close are you?" he muttered as he willed himself to hang on.

"Go," she mumbled against his neck, and he felt the subtle change in movement that indicated that she was climaxing.

"Come for me, Kate," he breathed as he watched her. The sight of her beneath him, gasping in pleasure, was too much for him, and he let go, plunging over the edge with her. They moved together, and he noted that she was gasping more loudly than she ever had before. "You okay?" he asked her when they collapsed against each other a moment later.

Kate's eyes were wide as she stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. "Oh…my…god. That was incredible. I've never had an orgasm that powerful in my entire life, J."

Gibbs smirked. "Pregnant sex can be pretty intense."

Kate turned her head to look at him. "Speaking from experience?" she grinned. "Did Shannon…?" she trailed off.

He smirked again and nodded. "Oh, yeah. It was bad. I didn't think I was gonna be able to keep up with her."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "And…how old were you then?"

Gibbs grinned. "Twenty-five."

Kate nodded. "Hmm. And now you're fifty-one. You might have to hire someone," she needled him playfully.

"Hey, I resent the implication," he muttered. He leaned up on one elbow and placed a gentle kiss to her throat. "I guess I'll have to take one for the team and devote all of my energies to keeping you sexually satisfied."

"Good," Kate replied. "You ready to go again?" She laughed at the look on his face. "Kidding, J."

Gibbs laughed and pulled her closer, fighting the urge to drift off to sleep.

----------

It was early November when Kate went back for her next check-up. Her doctor, Chris, placed the Doppler over her belly to see if he could discern the baby's heartbeat. A moment later, when the _whoosh-whoosh-whoosh_ of the baby's heartbeat met his ears, Gibbs found himself unable to swallow over the lump in his throat. He looked at Kate and was surprised to see that her eyes were bright with unshed tears. He reached for her hand, and when she squeezed back, he found that she was trembling.

"Heart rate is 148," Chris said.

Gibbs furrowed his brow. "Isn't that kind of fast?"

"Nope. Perfect for a developing baby. Everything's fine, Jethro," he reassured. "All right, Kate, you're, uh," he consulted her chart, "eleven weeks and everything looks perfect. I'll see you back here in four weeks, ok? I'll do an ultrasound and see if we can see the gender, but don't hold your breath—sixteen weeks is about the earliest we can usually see it."

Kate nodded. "That it?" she asked as he headed for the door.

"Yep. Get outta here, and Kate—" he stopped and looked at her pointedly.

"What?"

"Take it easy on the working out, okay?"

Kate grinned. "Scout's honor," she said.

----------

Gibbs stood at his closet door and pulled his dress blue uniform out. It was still in the dry cleaning bag, and he had to make sure it still fit. If it didn't, he'd have to have it altered in a hurry. Tugging his t-shirt and jeans off, he pulled the uniform off the hanger and was gratified to find that it still fit like a glove. Glancing in the mirror, he was pleased with what he saw. He then walked to his bedside table and opened the drawer, removing a small box. He removed the ring within and slipped it into his back pocket, ensuring that its outline couldn't be seen through the material. Engagements might be comically old-hat to him, but Kate had never been proposed to before, and he intended to do it right.

**A/N: A little bit of pregnancy info for those who may be unfamiliar or have questions. First, let me give you my qualifications—in addition to having BEEN through two pregnancies, my undergrad degree is in biology. So you can trust anything I write that has a medical/scientific slant to be accurate. Nothing annoys me more than blatant inaccuracies when dealing with pregnancy in fanfic. So here we go: weeks of pregnancy are calculated NOT from the time of conception but from the first day of the last menstrual period (LMP). So when the baby is actually conceived, you're already at the two week mark, and when you miss your period (roughly two weeks later) and realize you're pregnant, you're considered to be four weeks along, even though the baby itself is only two weeks old. Due dates are calculated NOT by the size of the embryo itself, but from the date of the LMP (the traditional way of doing this is take the first day of the LMP, go back three months and add one week to get the due date. So if the LMP started August 15, you'd go back three months to May 15, and add one week, making the due date May 22.). If the LMP is unknown, then they use embryonic size. If the LMP *is* known, then the due date never changes, regardless of the baby's size. For example, my son was gigantic (9.5 pounds at birth), but his due date never changed because I knew EXACTLY when my LMP was (and he arrived one day before his due date, so we were right on). An average woman delivers around the 40 week mark (38 weeks after conception). Other erroneous assumptions: not all women get sick (I never threw up or even thought I would with either of mine), and the average pregnant woman is either A) horny as all hell, or B) instructs her husband that if he wants to keep that thing attached, he better keep it the hell away from her. Not much middle ground there. I decided to make Kate fall into the A category because, well…it's just funnier that way. If I left anything out that you may have a question about, please ask. Wouldn't want to cause confusion with any of the pregnancy stuff.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Thanks to the always-awesome Bamacrush for her input on a key aspect of this chapter—I really appreciate it, K! I felt much more confident about it after hashing it out with you. Also thanks to my most awesome Alexa for hassling me about getting the next chapter up. Yes, you rock. You know this already.**

**There is another note at the end with some details about the Marine Corps Birthday Ball, for anyone who might want to call me out on a small liberty I took.**

**Also, for those to whom I promised an update this past Sunday, I do apologize. We are out of town right now, and the internet is spotty at best, and craptacular at worst. It's been a struggle to get anything done.**

The morning before the Marine Corps Birthday Ball, Gibbs awoke early to find Kate nestled into him. He smiled and caressed the arm that was slung over his stomach, willing himself to relax about what the next evening held. He was absolutely sure about Kate, but like most men, his Y chromosome gave him fits over making a commitment official. And with so many dismal failures behind him…well, it was enough to make any man think twice about doing it again. He knew it was going to work this time; still, though, the idea instinctively made him nervous.

He looked over to see Kate's eyes fluttering open. "Mmm, hi," she mumbled, closing her eyes sleepily again. Gibbs shifted and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. He looked down at her skin as his lips hovered above the flesh and murmured, "I wonder how long it would take to kiss every freckle on your body."

Kate opened her eyes and laughed. She looked down at her skin and pretended to consider. "Well, if you started now…" she said, tapping her finger against her lips, "nah, we'd still miss the Ball tomorrow night," she joked.

"I like them," Gibbs noted.

"Good thing," she murmured. "I don't mind 'em—except that they're a reminder of times I haven't been as careful in the sun as I should have been." She looked down at her arms and torso indifferently. "Feel free to kiss as many as you can, though," she added with a grin.

Gibbs growled and assaulted her shoulders with his lips.

----------

When Gibbs left for work, he informed Kate that he was staying at his house that night, and that he would pick her up at 4:45 the next afternoon, to give them time to make the short drive into Maryland, check into their room, and be ready for cocktails at six. "I can't wait to see this dress," he said as he kissed her goodbye. She had steadfastly refused to let him see it, or even give a hint of what it might look like. All she had said was that she was reasonably certain that the average woman spends less for a wedding dress than she had for this gown, but it would be worth it when he saw her in it.

"Screw the dress," she deadpanned. "I want to see the uniform." He smirked and opened her front door. "Bye, J," she called after him, laughing a little.

"Bye, Kate," he answered, shaking his head with a grin as he pulled her door closed behind him.

----------

Kate stood in her closet at the end of an afternoon of pampering. She'd treated herself to a massage, manicure, and pedicure that morning and had just returned home from having her hair and makeup done. Her long, thick red hair had been swept back into an elaborate knot at the base of her neck, and her makeup was just a bit more dramatic than she normally wore it—perfect for a black tie evening. Her legs were clean-shaven and moisturized, and her overnight bag was packed. All that remained was for her to get dressed. She slipped into a silky nude La Perla thong, and paired it with a matching strapless bra. She examined her reflection in the full-length mirror and was pleased with what she saw. The weight she'd worked so hard to gain looked good on her, she decided, adding curves where she had never had any before. And Jethro seemed to approve, as well. She reached for the dress and slipped it out of the bag and off of its hanger. After shopping with her mom for what seemed like eternity, she had finally found a dress she adored—and that looked as if it was made for her. It was a turquoise Badgley Mischka gown—a one-shouldered affair that fit snugly down to her waist and featured a slit up to _there_ on her right leg. She looked fantastic in it and she knew it. What's more, she knew the dress would have Jethro begging for mercy. Of course, he had his own weapon in that battle, and she hoped her knees would hold out when he came to pick her up wearing his dress blues. Grinning to herself, she slipped into the dress and zipped it up the side. When she was satisfied with how it looked, she stepped into a pair of strappy silver Manolo Blahniks that represented the most money she had ever spent on a pair of shoes in her life. Her feet were going to be in excruciating pain by the end of the evening, but at least they'd look fabulous getting there. She added the diamond stud earrings she had received from her parents for her birthday, the platinum bracelet that had been her gift upon graduation from medical school, and decided to forego wearing a necklace, since the dress had such a dramatic neckline. She examined herself once more in the mirror and was reasonably certain that she looked more elegant than she ever had in her life. She turned and grabbed her evening clutch, filling it with lipstick, her ID, a small digital camera, and breath mints. She picked up her overnight bag and carried it to the front door before returning to her bathroom for her clutch and wrap. She glanced at the clock on her bathroom counter. 4:40. God, she was antsy. She didn't know why, but the fact that Jethro had seemed on edge when she spoke to him earlier hadn't helped. He seemed nervous, and that made _her_ nervous in turn. She was fairly certain that he wasn't having second thoughts, but she'd been burned by him once, and though he was forgiven, she couldn't help but be a little skittish when it came to wondering if he would cut and run again.

Her ruminations were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Glancing at her reflection one final time, she took a deep breath and gripped her clutch and wrap. She exited her bathroom and made her way to the front door. Glancing through the peephole, she uttered a muted, "Hot damn, Jethro," before opening the door.

The look on his face was worth every penny she'd spent on the dress and shoes.

The November air was cold and he quickly stepped inside, automatically removing his cover and tucking it beneath his arm.

"Wow," they breathed simultaneously. Gibbs was at a loss for any further words, while Kate plunged on ahead.

"Oh my god," she said. "I've changed my mind. Let's skip the Ball."

"Fine," he said, his eyes roaming her hungrily. "Let's skip the Ball."

He placed his cover on a small table by the door and stepped forward. "You look…" he breathed out and shook his head, unable to find the right words. He reached out with white-gloved hands and pulled her into his arms. He leaned down until his lips were nearly touching hers and whispered, "breathtaking," before gently pressing his mouth to hers. Her heart sped up a bit at the tender but insistent kiss, and she ran her hands up his arms, smoothing over the material of his uniform before settling at his neck. She brushed her thumbs over his skin before breaking the kiss breathlessly.

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest as she mumbled, "You should stop if you have any intention whatsoever of actually making it to the Ball tonight, Marine."

"Noted, Ma'am," he said, giving her a mock salute.

She lifted her head and looked at him again. "God, you look incredible," she murmured, running her hands over the ribbons and medals on his uniform.

Gibbs chuckled distractedly as he continued to ogle her. "What _is_ it about this uniform that drives women wild?" he wondered aloud.

"Oh, I don't know," Kate said, her eyes never leaving the uniform. "Maybe that you guys look sexy as hell in them?"

"Sexy nothing," he murmured appreciatively as his eyes prowled over her curves. "Looked in a mirror lately? You weren't lying about the dress." He leaned in once again and pressed his lips to hers. "How do you feel?" he asked with concern in his voice.

"J, I'm fine. I feel great," she assured him. "Let's go?" she asked.

----------

An hour later, they had checked into the massive resort in Maryland where the Ball was being held, deposited their bags in their room, and were heading down for the cocktail reception, her arm linked elegantly through his. As they entered the ballroom lobby, where cocktails were being served, Jethro began to feel both smug and possessive as he realized the woman on his arm was easily the most beautiful woman in the room—and that that fact had not escaped the notice of the other men present. Heads were turning, and he placed a white-gloved hand over the small hand at his elbow, subtly marking his territory. He said quietly to her, "There are about fifteen different men right now wondering exactly how the hell an old guy like myself managed to score a date with a woman like you."

Kate laughed under her breath and pulled herself a little tighter into his arm. "Other men? Where? I only see one man in this room." She looked around playfully, pretending to be confused. Jethro chuckled and squeezed her hand. Kate gave him a sideways look, furrowing her brow; something seemed off about his laugh. "Are you okay?" she murmured under her breath. "You seem anxious."

"Just not used to being in uniform anymore," he replied smoothly. He needed a drink to calm his nerves before she got suspicious. "I'm going to get a bourbon; what can I get you?"

"A whiskey sour," she deadpanned.

Jethro was not amused. "Not a chance. Let me rephrase: what _non-alcoholic_ beverage can I procure for you, Dr. Andrews?"

Kate grinned. "Tonic water with a twist of lime?" Jethro nodded as they approached the bar and he ordered their drinks.

The ballroom lobby was starting to fill up with other revelers as he sipped his bourbon and began to relax just a bit. He was scanning the crowd curiously when his gaze settled on one very familiar face; the gentleman in question met Jethro's eye and nodded in acknowledgement before moving toward the couple.

"SecNav," Jethro murmured as the older man maneuvered through the crowd toward them.

"Special Agent Gibbs," he said with a smile.

"Mr. Secretary," Gibbs responded, nodding politely.

"I take it this is the young woman for whom you so ardently requested tickets to this Ball?"

Gibbs nodded with a small smile. "Mr. Secretary, this is Dr. Katherine Andrews." Kate took the Secretary's proffered hand demurely.

"It's lovely to meet you, Mr. Secretary. Thank you so much for the tickets. My father was a Marine, and I've always wanted to go to a Birthday Ball," she said warmly.

The Secretary of the Navy gave her a look that was clearly approval, and nodded toward Gibbs with a significant raise of his eyebrows. Turning back toward Kate, he said, "It was my pleasure, Dr. Andrews. Special Agent Gibbs is...well, probably the best we have in the entire agency. It was the least I could do."

Kate bowed her head delicately as she gave a charming smile, impressing Gibbs. She seemed completely at ease in what most would consider an intimidating social setting. "Thank you, Mr. Secretary," she murmured. She smiled gracefully as he excused himself, and Jethro shook the Secretary's hand firmly, offering his own thanks for the tickets.

"Best in the agency, huh?" Kate smiled, sounding impressed.

Jethro made a noise, dismissing the compliment, and was about to respond when he was approached by yet another acquaintance. Introductions were repeated, and the next hour and a half went quickly as guests mingled, and Jethro, loosened up by the bourbon, emerged just slightly from his normally taciturn shell to become warmer, if not actually sociable. Kate was aware that neither his eyes nor his hands seemed to ever leave her body, and she was just fine with that. Truth be told, she _had_ noticed other men looking at her, and his possessiveness delighted rather than offended her.

At 9:45, after the official ceremony had taken place and dinner had been eaten, the band geared up and dancing commenced. Kate had absolutely no idea why, but she was somewhat shocked to find that Jethro was a reasonably skilled dancer. He held her left hand tightly in his cotton-gloved right hand as he deftly maneuvered her through a ballad, and she found herself hoping—again—that the old adage about things that seemed too good to be true was in fact, _not_ true. She loved him desperately, she _wanted _him desperately, and she was still in awe that she had found someone so perfectly attuned to her. She had meant every word she had said to her mother; she didn't need a ring or a ceremony to know that he loved her and that he loved their child. And she had no intention of bringing the topic up. If it was going to happen, she was determined that it would be without any pressure from her. Still, though, the fact that he had yet to broach the topic of marriage or even cohabitation bothered her just the tiniest bit, even if she wouldn't admit it to anyone but herself. She broke from her thoughts as he leaned down to press his lips to hers gently. "You all right?" he asked her, concern in his eyes.

"Perfect," she murmured.

"Something on your mind?" he asked. "You seemed far away."

"Just thinking about how happy I am," she smiled.

Jethro swallowed and nodded, looking inexplicably anxious. "Yeah—" he chucked his thumb toward the floor-to-ceiling doors that led out onto the veranda. "You wanna get some fresh air?"

Kate nodded and allowed him to take her by the hand and lead her to the edge of the ballroom and out onto the veranda. Large ceramic heaters counteracted the cold November air, and for that, Jethro was grateful, since Kate's arms were bare. Jethro glanced around and ascertained that they were alone. He guided her toward the low wall with his left hand while his right hand inconspicuously fished the ring from his back pocket.

Slipping the ring onto the end of his right pinky, he stopped behind her and slid his left hand around her waist and held her back close against his chest. He leaned his chin down to her bare shoulder and breathed in her scent as she leaned back against him. She closed her eyes and leaned her head to the side, inviting him to press his lips to her skin. Obliging happily, he murmured between kisses. "So you _are_ happy with me, then, Kate?"

He felt her smile as he kissed her skin. "You have to ask?" she replied languidly.

He grinned against her shoulder as he shifted the ring from his pinky to between his thumb and forefinger. Lifting his head, he gave a soft laugh and said, "Well, no. But there is something I _do_ have to ask." With that, he slid his right hand around her waist and held the ring up in front of her. He heard a sharp intake of air as she whirled to face him.

Kate was overwhelmed by the sight before her—her blue-eyed ex-Marine in dress blues, smiling gently, holding a diamond. Her brain was jumbled, and she fought to maintain a coherent train of thought as he gave her a crooked smile and said, "Marry me?"

Words failed her.

Her hands were covering her mouth, and she realized that her eyes were filling with tears that she never saw coming. Still unable to speak, she held her shaking left hand out and watched in awe as he slipped the ring on her finger. "Is that a yes?" he teased softly.

Kate took his face in her trembling hands and forced herself to speak. "Are you sure?" she asked. "About this? You know I don't expect you to—"

"I know," he cut her off. "Kate, I wouldn't ask if I didn't mean it."

"Then yes," she said, starting to grin. "That would be a deliriously happy, incredibly emphatic YES!"

Kate laughed and threw her arms around his shoulders, pressing her face into his neck and inhaling deeply. She sighed with contentment as he tightened his arms around her waist, locking her against him. "You have just made me a very happy woman," she whispered against his throat.

"Good," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Then we're both thrilled about it, it seems." He pulled her even more tightly against him and shifted his face to press a kiss to her temple.

"That a sword, Gunny, or are you just happy to see me?" she joked as the hilt of his saber pressed into her side.

Jethro laughed. "Guess you'll find out in a little while." He ran his hands down her arms and laced their fingers together. "This dress is going to look fantastic in a crumpled heap on the floor," he mused.

"Mmm," she murmured. "I don't suppose you can manage to make love to me while still wearing the uniform?"

"Not comfortably."

"Shame," she said.

Kate shivered then and Jethro nodded back toward the ballroom. "Come dance with me," he said, pulling her toward the door.

----------

Kate had been right about the shoes. Her feet were in crippling pain, but she didn't care. The evening had been worth it. It was one a.m., the Ball was ending, and her _fiancé_ was leading her out of the ballroom and back to their room. As they walked, he teased her by quietly whispering in her ear the things he was going to do to her once they got back. As soon as the elevator doors closed behind them, Kate groaned and reached down to pull her shoes off. She sighed in exquisite relief as she stood back up, only to be pushed back against the elevator wall by an amorous and bourbon-loosened Jethro. Kate laughed as his hands ran from her neck, down her shoulders and cupped her breasts gently through her dress as he kissed her neck. "Feet hurting?" he mumbled against her skin.

"Mmm," she replied, her eyes closed, a lazy smile on her face. "They'll be fine."

"You want me to massage 'em?"

Kate's eyes snapped open. "J, of all the things I want you to be doing with your hands in a few minutes, massaging my feet is at the very bottom of the list."

The elevator dinged before Jethro could respond, and he reached down to grab her shoes. He then took both of her hands in one of his, walking backwards as he pulled her gently from the elevator, never breaking eye contact. After a few feet, he turned without releasing her hand, tugging her gingerly behind him. When he reached the door of their room, he let go of her and tugged the key card from his pocket, opening the door. He tossed her shoes and his cover inside and turned to her, gripping her waist firmly and pulling her to him. He kissed her once, hard, and guided her into the room. She let her clutch fall to the floor as she reached up to twist her hands in his hair. He responded at once, sliding one hand around her lower back, pulling her firmly to him as the other hand lingered over the exposed collarbone on her one bare shoulder. He kissed her more deeply as he maneuvered her against the wall. His hands wound up her neck and fumbled with the tight knot of hair at the base of her skull. She laughed lightly, reaching up to pull her hair free. She shook her head as she pulled the pins out, letting her hair cascade down around her shoulders. Jethro tangled his hands in her thick red hair as he pressed his hips against hers needily. Kate reached up and pulled his hands out of her hair. He broke the kiss and looked at her questioningly.

"Gloves off," she muttered, tugging at them. "I want to feel your _hands_ on me, J." Jethro recognized the look in her eyes—it was unmistakable. She wanted him wildly and she would be aggressive if he didn't cooperate to her liking. He quickly shucked the gloves and took her face in his hands, staring into her eyes with a ferocity that was unnerving. Kate found herself unable to breathe in the intensity of the moment. The wordless emotion emanating from his eyes was staggering in its power and Kate couldn't have torn her eyes from his even if she had wanted to. After a moment, he brought his face slowly toward hers and almost inaudibly whispered, "Thank you. For everything," before pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, gentle, and simmering with anticipation. Kate was grateful that she was nestled between his body and the wall as she surrendered herself to him and felt her legs fail her. Jethro moved his hands from her face to slide them around her waist to her back, supporting her. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and tasted her, allowing the kiss to become more heated. He pressed himself against her and she panted into his mouth when she felt how aroused he was. Kate reached up and began to fumble with the brass buttons on the coat of his uniform, getting only the collar button undone before Jethro reluctantly broke out of the kiss.

"This will be faster if I just do it," he said in a rough voice as he quickly slipped the buttons through their holes. He threw the jacket back harshly and let it fall to the floor behind him, sword and all. He tugged his white undershirt off and Kate's heart raced at the sight of him, bare-chested, wearing only his sky-blue dress pants with their bright blood stripe down the sides. She stepped forward and placed her palms on his chest, sweeping downward to his pants. She started to unbutton them, but his firm hand on hers halted her movement. Looking up at him, she raised an eyebrow. He smirked and jerked his head toward the bed before walking toward it, pulling his shiny black dress shoes off along the way. Kate followed, twirling a strand of dark red hair around her finger as she admired the view of his bare back and shoulders. Jethro stopped by the bed and turned back toward her in one quick movement, claiming her lips in a crushing kiss that left her reeling. His hands settled on her shoulders for a brief moment before skimming down over her breasts and under her arms in search of a zipper. Finding one under her right arm, he pulled free of the kiss and touched his forehead to hers, locking his eyes on hers as he slowly tugged the zipper south. When it was fully unzipped, Kate shifted, never breaking Jethro's gaze, to allow the turquoise dress to slip from her shoulder and fall to the ground around her feet. She pressed her lips gently to Jethro's and sat back on the bed, pulling him down with her. She lay back and he straddled her obligingly, looking admiringly at her flesh-colored thong and strapless bra.

"You look incredibly enticing this evening, Dr. Andrews," he murmured as he leaned over her.

She smiled demurely from beneath him and reached once again for his pants. "You. Out." she commanded. This time, he acquiesced easily and allowed her to unbutton and unzip the pants. She pushed them down his hips and he kicked them off before pressing himself down on her, hard. Kate moaned as he pressed himself between her legs, grinding a little. "Stop teasing," she whispered harshly, pushing at his boxers. He obliged her, shifting to allow his shorts to slip down his legs.

"Better?" he asked when he thrust himself against her once again.

"No," she mumbled, pressing her lips against his chest. "I'm far too overdressed for the occasion."

"Easily remedied," he replied, deftly flipping over so that she was atop him. He reached up and swiftly unhooked the strapless bra, letting it fall to the bed. "Much better," he murmured, running his hands over her bare and swollen breasts. He took a nipple between each thumb and forefinger and caressed gently. "Sore?" he asked.

"Not enough to want you to stop doing that," she said in a husky voice. She bent down, resting on her hands, leaning her breasts toward his mouth, an invitation. He yielded to her and flicked his tongue against a nipple before closing his mouth around it, sucking delicately. Kate inhaled shakily, feeling her arousal build to an almost unbearable level. Jethro shifted to the other breast, moving his hands to her posterior and squeezing the bare flesh revealed by the thong she wore. The tips of his fingers grazed the edges of the thong and he gripped her and pressed her firmly against him, feeling her heat and wetness through the thin material. Kate gasped and said, "Dammit, J. You're such a tease. Do you have any idea what you _do_ to me?" She ground herself against him, desperate for release.

He acceded, shoving the thong down. Kate lifted herself off of him and he pushed the underwear down her legs. She kicked it off and looked at him hungrily. "What's your pleasure?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes for a moment, considering. "Bottom," she said, and they smoothly reversed positions. He hovered over her for a moment, kissing her deeply, his right hand cradling her head and neck as his left reached between her legs to stroke her, making her shudder and gasp into his mouth. "_Now_, Jethro," she commanded, letting him know she was serious.

He smiled at her insistence and relented, sliding smoothly into her. She gasped again and clutched at his shoulders as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer. She smiled as she spotted the diamond of her ring glinting from where she was gripping his shoulder.

"What?" he asked as he moved against her.

She smirked. "I was thinking that the view I have right now is even better with a diamond in it, that's all." Her last words were gasped as he increased his tempo. Jethro read the look in her eyes and knew from experience that this was not a time that she wanted him to be gentle. He shifted slightly to achieve maximum penetration and buried himself in her with even more force than before. He was gratified when she gasped again and raked her fingernails down his shoulder blades. He felt her begin to tense and continued thrusting, hard, barely hanging on. Kate bucked her hips against his greedily and began to moan as she reached her climax. "God…yes. More, J…please…don't stop…" Her words trailed off into indecipherable gasps and murmurs as her body trembled beneath his, and he was unable to hold off any longer. His own orgasm was powerful and long—long enough to send her crashing into a second orgasm just as his was concluding. He grimaced against the almost-painful intensity of it, but continued moving against her until she was sated once more. He winced as he gently leaned down on her, burying his face in her neck, her hair tickling his face. Gently inhaling her scent, he took her earlobe into his mouth and sucked gently for a moment, before swiftly pulling out and rolling onto his side next to her. He gathered her into his arms and pressed his lips into her hair sleepily.

"I do love you, Kate," he murmured. "I didn't just do it for the baby," he mumbled, answering the question that he knew was in her mind, but that she would not voice.

He felt, rather than saw, her smile. "Just wanted to make sure," she whispered.

Oh, yes, he was sure. Very sure, indeed.

**A/N: Yes, I am aware that under Marine Corps Birthday Ball etiquette, Gibbs would have worn a tux rather than his uniform. Uniform wear at the Ball is restricted to current, retired, or reserve Marines. Civilians wear tuxes. Gibbs didn't retire from the Corps, and it's highly doubtful that he's still on reserve, even inactive reserves, but come on—I think we can all agree that it's more interesting to have him in his uniform rather than a tux. So…yes, I am aware that it is incorrect, but I took a liberty. Sue me. **** And yes, there is more to come.**


	23. Chapter 23

On Monday morning, Kate paused at the nurse's station, where Dan was looking at a schedule of the day's patients. "Hey," he said, glancing up and then back down to the sheet of paper he held. "How was your weekend?" he asked absently.

"Oh, I don't know," Kate sighed teasingly, leaning down on her left elbow and sweeping her left hand up dramatically to support her chin, engagement ring front and center. "My weekend was completely uninteresting. Absolutely _nothing_ significant happened to me," she sighed with faux boredom, only partially succeeding at keeping the huge smile off of her face.

Dan's eyes locked on the engagement ring, and a huge grin spread over his face. He leaned back and looked down the long hallway. "Yo! Jay! Get down here!" He straightened back up and pulled Kate into an impromptu hug, both of them grinning wildly.

A moment later, Jay appeared. Dan grabbed Kate's hand and thrust it in Jay's face. "Lookie here, Jay. Our girl picked up a new accessory over the weekend."

"What's this, Dr. Andrews?" Jay drawled. "You go shopping this weekend? Surely no _guy_ bought you a diamond this big," he needled. "Or was it the old man you've been hanging out with?" he teased.

Kate smirked and shot back, "May I remind you that the _old man_ I've been 'hanging out with' is only, what, five, six years older than you guys?"

Jay held up his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa, no need to get personal now, Kate." He grinned. "So…spill. Details, please."

Kate laughed. "God, you're worse than a teenage girl, Jay. And don't even laugh, Dan—you're just as bad," she said, turning to him and wiping the smirk right off his face. She turned back to Jay's expectant face and sighed, relenting. "Fine. He may or may not have taken me to the Commandant's Marine Corps Birthday Ball Saturday night, where he may or may not have proposed to me on a balcony in full dress blues."

Jay let out a low whistle. "Nice," he murmured. "Down on one knee?"

Kate wrinkled her nose. "Definitely not," she said. "Not his style and not mine, either. I'd have yanked him right back up."

"Set a date?"

"We haven't gotten that far yet," she said. She patted her still-flat belly. "Although I guess we'll have to take this little one into consideration when we do decide."

Jay started to respond, but at that moment, one of the nurses brought back Kate's first patient of the day, and Kate grabbed a stack of charts with a grin as the three pediatricians dispersed to begin work.

----------

Had Kate known what Wednesday would bring, she would have held her tongue that morning when Jethro made his overprotective side known for the thousandth time since she had announced her pregnancy to him.

She had been ready to walk out the door for work when she realized one of the lights in the kitchen's vaulted ceiling was burned out, so, after grabbing a spare bulb, she clambered atop the counter to change it. It was in this position that Jethro had found her when he had emerged from the hallway a moment later. His bellowed, "Kate!" had been nearly enough to make her fall off the counter in fright, and she had snapped back, "What the hell, J?" in annoyance.

"What are you doing?" he asked incredulously. "You could hurt yourself!"

"Dammit, Jethro," she spat back. "Will you chill? I'm pregnant, not an invalid. Former gymnast, remember?" She was finished with the bulb, and punctuated her point by leaping lithely to the ground, barely making a sound as she landed. "Balance is kinda my thing," she said sarcastically.

"Kate," he had warned, moving toward her, "you can't take chances."

Yes, she had been fueled partially by lack of sleep, but mostly by hormones gone haywire; this explained the reaction that was completely disproportionate to his transgression. She had snapped, "Get off my fucking back about it, J. I'm an adult _and_ a doctor, remember?" And with that, she had grabbed her things and stormed out the door without a word, leaving her very shocked fiancé in her wake.

She'd been completely over it by the time she got to work, and had intended to call him and apologize for her overreaction. But the work day had begun with a bang, and she simply hadn't had the chance. She hadn't worried about it, figuring there would be plenty of opportunity for apologies that evening. She had no way of knowing how wrong she was.

Kate was admiring her ring at her desk while eating a hurried lunch that day when her cell phone buzzed. She glanced at the caller ID and smiled. Gibbs.

"I was just thinking about you, Babe," she murmured when she flipped open her phone.

The voice on the other end was tight. "Kate?"

She paused. Definitely not Gibbs. Tension washed over her as she answered, "Yes?"

"This is Anthony DiNozzo. I'm—"

"I know who are you are," she cut him off. "What's happened? Why are you calling me from J's phone? Is he okay?" Kate forced herself to stop talking as she waited for DiNozzo to answer.

"You need to come to Bethesda Naval Hospital as soon as possible." Kate's heart dropped at the fear and stress in the agent's voice.

"Tony, what's happened?"

A pause. "Just get down here."

Kate steeled her voice with a confidence she did not feel. "Special Agent DiNozzo," she ground out from between clenched teeth. "I am not moving until you tell me what's happened to him."

It was a lie; she was already on her feet, slamming her laptop closed, digging desperately in her desk for her keys, tossing the remains of her lunch in the trash, but he didn't call her bluff.

"He's been shot. That's all the information I have at this point."

"I'm on my way," she said, attempting to shut down the panic that was blooming in her belly in order to stay calm and detached until she arrived at the hospital.

----------

Kate stormed out of her office, barely taking the time to toss an explanation and apology over her shoulder at her partners, who looked after her, stunned. She broke nearly every traffic law in existence in her haste, and it occurred to her too late how pissed J would have been, had he known the danger she had put herself and the baby in on her way to be by his side. Try as she had to let emotionally-detached Dr. Andrews be in control, when it came to the man she loved, it was plain old Kate that had raced recklessly into Maryland to be with him.

When she reached Bethesda, she realized that she had no idea where to go, so she parked near the critical care entrance and rushed inside. When she burst through the doors, she immediately recognized Anthony DiNozzo. He was pacing back and forth, apparently waiting for her. When he saw her, he turned on his heel and approached her. She flinched inwardly at the sight of Jethro's blood on Tony's shirt and tie. She was a physician; blood bothered her not in the least—until it was the blood of someone she loved. "What the hell happened, Tony? Was he wearing a vest? Is he okay? What's his condition?" she asked before he had a chance to speak. The panic was creeping up on her and she felt as though she was barely in control of it. It didn't help that Tony was sporting a dazed and stricken look on his face, as if he had been attempting to process altogether too much information and had given up trying.

He looked at her without looking at her as he explained. "It was…a total surprise." His voice was dull, flat. "It was just a…routine investigation. There was a witness…we needed to just get some basic information from him…so Gibbs and I went to his house…we asked him a few questions…and then, out of nowhere…" Tony's eyes became glazed as he relived the moment. "…he suddenly got agitated. He grabbed behind a couch cushion and came up with a gun. He got a couple of rounds off on Gibbs before I was able to drop him." Tony's voice was choked with guilt.

Kate ground her teeth together, fighting for control. "Where were the wounds?" she asked, trying to slip into doctor mode.

"Uhh…one was in the shoulder, and one was in his…um…" he trailed off.

Kate reached up and took him by the shoulders, firmly. "Tony. Think. Did you or did you not administer first aid until help arrived?"

His eyes locked on hers, suddenly focused. "Yes."

"Then tell me: where was the bleeding?"

Tony closed his eyes, thinking hard, remembering. "The one in the shoulder seemed to be fairly clean. A through and through, I think. The other shot was in his upper left abdominal area." His voice got faint. "There was a lot of blood." He gestured faintly at his ruined shirt and tie.

Kate blew out a shaky breath. "Ok," she whispered. "Could be stomach, could be spleen, could be intestines." She drew herself up, trying to center herself and stay on top of the fear. "What happened after he was shot? Did he lose consciousness? Did he vomit? How long did it take for help to arrive?"

Tony seemed to be getting his bearings back now that he was being actively questioned. "I, ah, I dropped the guy, and then I turned to Gibbs. I saw two holes in his sweater. There wasn't much blood from his shoulder wound, but lots of blood from the abdominal wound." Tony's eyes were unfocused once again as he reached back into his memory. "I had one hand on his abdomen, applying pressure, while I dialed 911 with the other hand. It only took five minutes or so for the ambulance to get there." He paused, thinking. "Gibbs was still conscious, barely. He pulled out his cell phone and pushed it toward me. He muttered, 'Call Kate,' before he passed out. He lost too much blood." He looked back up at her. "I called you as soon as the ambulance came and he was stabilized…and I knew where they were taking him." He looked suddenly apologetic. "I'm sorry if I was—"

Kate held up a hand, stopping him. "Tony, don't worry about it. Where is he?"

Tony gestured to her to follow him, and she took a deep breath as she clutched her bag tighter against her shoulder, falling in behind him. He led her to an elevator, and she closed her eyes as the doors slid shut behind her. A dull dinging alerted her that they had arrived at whatever their destination was. She pried her eyes open with some effort and allowed Tony DiNozzo to lead her off the elevator and into the ICU waiting area.

As they approached the cluster of chairs that made up the ICU waiting room, Kate vaguely registered a small grouping of people looking at her expectantly. She glanced at them but didn't bother picking out who was who. She simply looked at Tony. "What's the story? Where is he?"

Before Tony could answer, the double doors at the end of the hallway opened, and a surgeon clad in scrubs emerged. From the corner of her eye, Kate saw movement, indicating that the small group of Jethro's co-workers was moving as one toward the surgeon. With an authority she did not feel, she held up her hand without looking at them and was surprised when they backed off. Tony moved from her side, apparently sensing that she wanted to speak to the doctor privately.

Kate looked at the surgeon expectantly. "What is his condition?" she asked, fear gripping her heart.

"I'm Dr. Stephens. Are you Special Agent Gibbs' next of kin?"

"Not quite yet, no," she said, indicating her engagement ring.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I can only release information to the next-of-kin or power of attorney."

Kate bristled in frustration. "Okay. Let's start over here. Let me begin by introducing myself. I'm _Doctor_ Katherine Andrews, and while I don't happen to have privileges at this particular hospital, a little professional courtesy would be nice." Kate lowered her voice and glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was close enough to hear her next words. "As for the next-of-kin issue, well, it so happens that Special Agent Gibbs' next-of-kin is currently residing in my uterus, and is therefore unable to speak for him. _Now,_" she said through clenched teeth, "would you please give me some information on the condition of the father of my child? Particularly since you look like you're heading into surgery momentarily," she added pointedly.

The surgeon stared at her for a moment, deliberating. Then he sighed and spoke. "Okay. He had two gunshot wounds—one to his left shoulder, which looks to be fairly minor. The second injury is in the upper left quadrant of his abdomen and is much more extensive. He's bleeding internally, but we haven't been able to isolate the source as of yet, so I'm about to go in and find it so we can get it stopped. Right now, it looks like a Class III hemorrhage, but it could be borderline Class IV." Kate closed her eyes at his words. She remembered enough of her emergency room rotation to know that Class IV hemorrhages usually required aggressive treatment—and sometimes resuscitation—to prevent death.

"Is he stable enough for surgery?"

Dr. Stephens shrugged somewhat helplessly. "I'd like him to be more stable than he is, but if I don't go in and find that bleed, it's not going to matter. He's being prepped right now."

"Is he getting blood?"

The surgeon nodded. "We're getting both blood and saline into him as fast as we can—trying to keep his pressure up. If I can get in there and figure out what's been hit, I'm hopeful for a positive outcome."

"I want to see him."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Andrews," he said apologetically. "He's in pre-op already and he's in pretty bad shape."

Kate reached out and took the doctor by the arm. Her voice took on a pleading quality as she beseeched him with a simple, "Please." She swallowed hard against the tears that were suddenly building and continued. "Please, just for a moment. Dr. Stephens, you and I both know that exploratory surgery in an emergency situation can go south in an instant. Anything can happen on that operating table. I need to have a chance to see him…just in case." She swallowed again, grappling for control with her emotions.

He gazed at her for a long moment, taking her in. Finally, he narrowed his eyes and said in a warning tone, "Two minutes. That's all."

Kate shuddered with the breath she exhaled. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling. She released the doctor's arm as she turned to Tony and his co-workers and held up a finger, indicating that she would be back in just a moment. Tony nodded as she turned back around and followed Dr. Stephens through the double doors into ICU.

---------

Tony watched as Kate disappeared through the double doors behind the surgeon. He turned to Ziva, McGee, and Abby and said in a low voice, "Did you see it?"

"The ring?" McGee asked.

"Mm-hmm."

Ziva looked confused. "So? She was wearing a ring?"

Tony rolled his eyes in spite of himself. "It was an _engagement_ ring, Ziva."

"And how do you know this?" she queried.

Tony closed his eyes. Opening them again, he said, "Well, Zee-_vah_, it was a diamond ring sitting snugly on the third finger of her left hand, so yeah, chances are pretty good that it's an _engagement_ ring."

Ziva raised an eyebrow. "Hmm," was all she said.

Abby spoke up then, for the first time. Her already red-rimmed eyes began watering anew as she wailed, "How could my silver-haired fox not tell me he was getting _married_ again?"

McGee attempted to suppress an eye-roll as he stepped to Abby's side and slung his arm around her shoulders. Abby turned toward him and buried her head in his chest, clutching him in her despair.

And on any other day, Anthony DiNozzo would have been completely amused by Abby's histrionics. But on this day, he simply sank down in the nearest chair and put his head in his hands, drowning in guilt.

----------

Kate braced herself for what she would see as Dr. Stephens led her to the pre-op suite. He paused at the door, giving her a moment to steel herself. She took a deep breath, clenched her teeth together, and nodded to him. He opened the door and said to her, "I have to go scrub. Two minutes. I'm trusting you." He fixed her with a stern look and allowed her to pass by before turning and heading toward the surgical suites.

Kate stepped through the doorway and sucked in a quiet breath as she took in the sight of her lover, being attended to by an O.R. nurse and an anesthesiologist. He was exceptionally pale from the loss of blood, almost as though he was made of wax. His fingertips and lips were bluish from oxygen deprivation and there were a couple of stray smears of blood across his left cheek, most likely from where he had been moved. He was bare from the waist up, with only some absorbent padding over the abdominal trauma area. She struggled between her desire to analyze his wounds and the need to avert her eyes from the catastrophic injuries he had suffered. The wound in his shoulder was neatly patched, but the padding over the more severe injury was soaked with his blood. Kate exhaled a shaky breath, and the O.R. nurse looked at her sympathetically and discreetly stepped away from the bedside, giving Kate room to move in beside him. She gently took him by the hand and squeezed softly. "I'm so sorry, J," she whispered brokenly. "I totally overreacted this morning and you didn't deserve it." Her voice broke and she swallowed hard against the tears that were beginning to fall. "With all that you've been through, you have every right to be overprotective. I should have understood." She bowed her head as a small sob escaped her lips. Sucking in a ragged breath, she fought off full-blown hysteria and bent to place her lips near his ear. "Now you listen to me. You fight. I need you and our baby needs you. _Fight, J_." Her throat clenched and she could no longer speak. She knew she had to wrap it up so they could get him into surgery, so she stroked his silver hair with her right hand as she leaned down to kiss his face. She breathed deeply as she kissed his cheek, and then his forehead, trying to inhale his scent, but all she could smell was the sterile odor of antiseptic. She squeezed her eyes shut as she straightened, and somehow found the strength to release him and step away from the gurney. She backed away, wringing her hands, as the O.R. nurse slid fluidly back into place at Jethro's bedside, checking his IVs and assessing the lower wound once again. Kate turned quickly and pushed through the double doors. Once outside, she leaned back against a wall in the hallway and allowed the tears freedom. She brought her hands to her face and sobbed into them quietly, trying to control her breathing so that she wouldn't hyperventilate. She was losing the battle with the terror, and a fear more intense than any she'd ever known was beginning to spread through her. Her body responded with violent trembling, and she sank down against the wall until she was sitting on her backside up against it.

Several moments later, she realized that she had left Jethro's co-workers in the ICU waiting room with the promise that she would shortly return. She stood unsteadily and took a deep breath. Swiping her hands across her eyes, she attempted to make herself presentable. One more deep breath, and she felt as if she was as ready to face J's team as she would ever be. She steadied herself and walked down the hall and back through the double doors. Her face was even as she gazed at the small group of people sitting in hard plastic chairs before her. They gazed at her expectantly and she stepped forward, speaking quietly, in a flat voice.

"He is in surgery now. Tony has probably already told you that there were two wounds. The one in his shoulder was pretty clean. Not a major deal. The other one, in his upper abdomen, was—" she paused to clear her throat in an attempt to maintain her emotional calm. "Um, the other wound was much more serious. There's internal bleeding; they don't know where. The surgery is exploratory to find the bleed and close it off, if they can."

There was a moment of silence, and then a black-headed woman with pigtails, a plaid miniskirt, and dangerously high platform boots came shuffling at her, arms held out. "Oof," Kate said as she was knocked backward in a bone-crushing bear hug. "You must be Abby." One more squeeze and Abby released her.

"He told you about me?" she sniffled, her eyes watery. "He didn't tell me about you!" she wailed.

Kate smiled in spite of herself. "It's okay, Abs," she comforted, using Jethro's nickname for her. "I'm sure he's just focused on work when he's at work. I'm Kate," she said warmly, trying to take her mind off what was happening in the operating suite. She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "He told me that you were his favorite." Kate was quickly enveloped in another crushing hug, as Abby decided that she liked Kate—she really, _really_ liked Kate.

Abby pulled back and searched Kate's eyes. "Are you okay?"

Kate swallowed and decided that _she_ really liked Abby, and that she could see why J thought so much of her. She nodded, not trusting her voice. She swallowed once and tried to answer. "I'll be okay," she whispered, "as long as _he's_ okay." She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears and felt Abby's arms slip around her once again, much more gently this time.

"He'll be okay," Abby whispered. "He _has_ to be." Abby tightened her arms around Kate's midsection as she spoke.

Kate squeezed back and exhaled lightly. "I hope so, Abby," she said. "I hope so."


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: I do trust that you will forgive the delay in getting this chapter up. I truly did not intend to leave you with such a cliff-hanger for so long. I had this chapter very nearly finished when my family was hit with some fairly devastating news, and it sapped me of any will to write whatsoever. I spent the next several days unable to do pretty much anything other than bitch and freak out. and Bamacrush can attest to this. Trust me. And it would have done none of us any good for me to finish the chapter in that state of mind, as I probably would have seen fit to just…kill Gibbs off.**

Kate sat in a hard plastic chair, elbows on her knees, hands clasped in front of her mouth, rocking back and forth. Jethro's coworkers were clumped together a few seats away, trying to find a balance between being supportive and giving Kate her space. They watched as Kate stared straight ahead…and rocked. She hadn't said a word since seating herself half an hour prior.

"Where the hell is Ducky?" Abby whined.

"Chill, Abby. He'll be here as soon as he finishes the autopsy he was working on. He can't just run out on a half-autopsied body," Tony said flatly. As if on cue, Tony's phone rang. He looked at the display. "Ducky," he said, and answered it. There was a pause. "He's in surgery right now," he said, looking Kate's way. "There was a…" Tony rolled his eyes, frustrated. "Here, I'm gonna let you talk to an actual doctor about it." Kate's head snapped up and she and Tony seemed to communicate wordlessly for a moment until he walked over and held his phone out with a helpless shrug. "You can explain better than I can."

Kate took the phone and held it to her ear. "Hello, Dr. Mallard. I've heard a lot about you," she said quietly. "My name is Kate Andrews," she said, with no further explanation. "Jethro had two gunshot wounds. The first was to his left shoulder. Looked to be a through-and-through. Fairly minor stuff. The second was in the upper left quadrant of his abdominal area, and caused what the surgeon said is either a class III or a class IV hemorrhage. They were unable to isolate the source of the bleed upon examination, so they took him into surgery." She paused, listening. "I saw him briefly. He wasn't conscious." Her voice was tight, and Tony was impressed with the control she displayed. Kate again listened quietly for a moment. "No, no updates yet. When will you be here?" She nodded. "Okay, then. Goodbye." She handed the phone back to Tony without looking at him. "He'll be here in ten minutes," she said in a quiet monotone, staring into space absently.

Tony looked over his shoulder at the others, eyes wide, silently asking, _"What do I do?" _Abby and McGee looked back at him with equally wide eyes, while Ziva merely shrugged helplessly. Tony stood motionless for a moment, indecisive, and then moved toward Kate, looking a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. He sat down uncertainly beside her and leaned down until his elbows were on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him.

"You never do get quite used to being in this situation," he murmured, looking at the wall in front of him. He saw Kate's head swivel toward him out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know how you all do it," she admitted.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked, turning toward her. "You're a doctor; don't you face this kind of thing on a daily basis?"

Kate huffed out a humorless laugh. "I'm a pediatrician, Tony. My days are spent in an office. And though I sometimes work emergency pediatrics in the E.R., it's different—I'm able to keep my head about me and stay calm because I don't personally know those kids. It's good for them—and for me—because I'm able to be calm and stay focused on helping them because I'm not emotionally entangled. This…" Her voice trailed off. "This is completely different," she whispered. "I'm not in control; I'm not treating him, and I'm sure as hell not detached." Tony barely heard the last words as they escaped her lips.

He was at a loss for words for a moment. Finally, he murmured, "Well, if you're falling apart, you're hiding it pretty well." He understood exactly what his boss saw in this woman.

Another mirthless laugh. She shook her head, apparently not believing his words. Tony decided to change the subject—redirect her thoughts. He glanced at her ring and decided to go for it. He was fairly certain _she _wouldn't headslap him.

"Nice ring. You guys getting married?" She stiffened and turned toward him abruptly.

"I don't know, Tony," she said. "Why don't you employ your superior investigating skills and tell me?" she said with an arched eyebrow.

"Fair enough," he said, eyeing her. "You're getting married."

"Smart boy."

"When?"

"Don't know yet."

"How long you been engaged?"

"Four days."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Ah," he said in understanding.

Kate raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Oh—Boss was edgy Friday before he left work. He explicitly told the three of us—Ziva, McGee, and me—that he'd have our asses if we bothered him over the weekend for any reason short of…well, life or death, really." Tony shrugged. "I didn't know what he had going on, but I guess a weekend proposal explains it."

"Mmm," Kate nodded.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Tony quietly ventured, "It happened fast, didn't it?"

"Indeed it did," she said, allowing a small smile.

"He's been…different…a little…since you," Tony noted, hesitantly.

Kate looked at him. "Really?" she said.

Tony turned his head toward hers. "Yeah," he said. "He's been, I don't know… a little more laid back…hasn't worked as much…" Tony trailed off, shrugging. He mentally noted Kate's small smile.

Kate nodded to herself, and her smile grew a bit. "Thanks, Tony," she said, and she didn't have to elaborate for him to know what she meant.

He grinned back at her and then looked at his watch. "How long do you think he'll be in surgery?" Kate could hear the carefully controlled tension in his voice, and she drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

"There's no telling, really," she said reluctantly. "It all depends on what they find when they open him up. Based on the position of the wound, the round could have hit anything—stomach….spleen…an artery…" She drew in another breath. "It may be as simple as closing off an artery, or it may be as complex as actually removing an organ. Timewise….it could be anywhere from very soon to…several hours." She winced as she said this, and then looked back up at Tony, reading his face. "You really care about him, don't you?"

Tony blanched and looked at her hesitantly. She smiled gently and clasped her hands together, closing her eyes. "I think the feeling is mutual," she murmured in a low voice.

Tony huffed out an inscrutable sound, dropping his head. Kate, without looking at him, reached over and placed her hand over his, squeezing. In that moment, something passed between them, wordlessly, and smile passed over Kate's lips as she felt that everything would be okay.

Before either of them could say anything else, Tony's head snapped up as someone else entered the ICU waiting room. "Ducky!" Abby shouted as she stood and shuffled toward him in her platform boots. She threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly.

"Abigail," he grunted, extracting himself from her grip, "where is young Anthony?"

"Here, Ducky," Tony said, standing.

Ducky turned toward Tony, raising an eyebrow curiously. Kate rose from beside Tony and wiped her hands down her khaki pants. She stepped toward Ducky and extended her hand. "Dr. Mallard, I'm Kate Andrews—Doctor Katherine Andrews," she corrected. "We spoke on the phone earlier," she clarified.

Ducky took her hand. "Ah, yes, Dr. Andrews," he said in his Scottish brogue, concern etched in his voice. "Are there any updates on his condition?" Ducky seemed uninterested in interrogating her on her relationship with Jethro, and for that, she was grateful.

"No, not yet." She looked at her watch. "He's been in surgery for about an hour. I would think we would hear something very soon if things were simple, but if was something more complex…." Her voice trailed off.

"Yes, indeed," Ducky agreed. "It may be much longer, as you said." His eyes searched hers. He had heard the rumors, of course, that Jethro had a new inamorata, though his friend had not, naturally, confirmed them. "How are you holding up, my dear?" Kate swallowed hard and sank down into the chair behind her, rubbing her face in her hands. Tony took advantage of the moment to catch Ducky's eye and nod toward Kate while pointing toward his ring finger, indicating the engagement ring she was wearing. Ducky nodded, wordlessly signifying that he had indeed taken notice of it, and dropped into the seat next to Kate, sighing quietly.

Tony decided to give them a moment and quietly padded back to his remaining co-workers. They leaned toward him as he sat, their faces a mix of worry and curiosity. Tony glanced back toward Ducky and Kate, who were in quiet conversation, and murmured softly, "He proposed over the weekend."

The news that would have been considered juicy—even sensational—in any other circumstance elicited only subdued nods from the team now.

"What now?" whispered Abby.

Tony looked toward the ceiling, breathing deeply. "Now," he said, "we wait."

Kate sat with her face in her hands for a moment, looking up only after she heard Ducky seat himself next to her. She managed a small smile for the Scottish man. "Dr. Mallard—Ducky—it's nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you."

Ducky gave a small laugh. "I have heard absolutely nothing about you, Katherine, my dear, but I suppose you know that that is to be expected from our Jethro."

"Yes, that seems to be his way," she agreed, smiling.

Ducky peered at the ring nestled on Kate's finger. "And I take it that Jethro bestowed you with that charming little bauble?" Kate nodded. "The two of you are to be married, then?"

"That's the plan," Kate said, her voice tight with stress.

Ducky paused before shifting gears. "Did you personally speak with the surgeon?"

Kate nodded. "Yeah. It was a…" she squinted, trying to remember, "Dr. Stephens."

Ducky smiled, pleased. "Ah, yes. Rest easy, my dear girl. Alex Stephens is among the best in the business. Jethro is in good hands." With that, he sat back, obviously at ease with the situation.

Kate took in his relaxed posture and forced herself to sit back in her seat with a deep breath. She closed her eyes and willed her body to release some of the tension it was holding.

Two hours and seventeen minutes later, the double doors at the end of the waiting room opened, and Kate's eyes snapped up. Dr. Stephens strode into the waiting room, looking tired. Kate stood, along with all five of Jethro's co-workers. They moved as one toward Dr. Stephens, but Kate stopped them all dead in their tracks with an upraised hand and a severe look that left no room for argument. Kate strode determinedly toward Dr. Stephens, meeting him halfway through the room. She stopped in front of him and waited expectantly, her heart pounding.

"He's in recovery now, Dr. Andrews," the surgeon began. "The second round hit his spleen." He shook his head apologetically. "It was shredded—there was nothing I could do; I had to take it out." Kate winced. It wasn't catastrophic, but losing a spleen was never a good thing. The doctor continued, "He's lost a _lot_ of blood. He's on his second unit now, and I expect to give him at least one additional unit after this one, maybe two. He's been given the normal post-splenectomy round of vaccines, and he'll have to stay with us for at least a few days so I can watch him for complications, but…" he trailed off, looking at her thoughtfully. "Do you live together?"

"For all practical purposes, yes," she answered, seeing where he was heading.

"What is your specialty, Dr. Andrews?"

"I'm a pediatrician, but I know what to look for," she said, answering his as-yet-unspoken question.

Dr. Stephens nodded. "Okay," he consented. "In that case, I'd feel comfortable releasing him to you in a couple of days, then, assuming everything goes well between now and then." He paused. "He's not out of the anesthesia yet, but would you like to see him?"

Kate nodded, suddenly shaking with relief. Then, as the immediate fear left her, the adrenaline flooding through her system combined with the constant mild queasiness that accompanied her early pregnancy, and she stiffened suddenly. She held up a finger at Dr. Stephens and sprinted toward the bathroom. She banged open a stall door and barely had her head over the toilet bowl before vomiting noisily. She held her hair back with a shaking hand as the other hand pressed against the side of the stall for support. When she was finished, she found herself laughing with relief and crying tears of joy, the vomiting episode practically forgotten already. She quickly rinsed her mouth and wiped her face with a paper towel before stepping back into the waiting room.

Dr. Stephens was still there, waiting and talking to Ducky, while Jethro's other co-workers looked toward her with concern. "I'm fine," she said, a bit hoarsely. "Just…all the tension." She shrugged and turned back toward Dr. Stephens. "Yes," she said firmly. "I want to see him."

"Ten minutes," the surgeon said seriously. "Two of you may come, if you'd like."

"Dr. Mallard can come," Kate said firmly, not even looking to see his reaction. "Let's go," she said to Dr. Stephens. "I need to see him."

Kate and Ducky fell in behind the surgeon, Kate's jaw set in a firm line as she marched ahead, eyes locked on the tall surgeon's back. As they were led through a series of corridors, Kate felt Ducky's hand on her lower back and was surprised to find that the simple gesture, which she would have deemed patronizing from anyone else, was actually quite comforting coming from the charming Scottish doctor.

Dr. Stephens led them through yet another set of double doors and quickly came to a stop outside of a room with a plastic sign reading, _Recovery 3. _He turned to Kate and Ducky. "He's still intubated, but he should be coming out of the anesthesia soon. You can stay for ten minutes. I have to check on another patient, but if he starts to come around before I get back, just ring for the nurse and we'll get him extubated." Kate nodded, swallowing hard, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ducky give a reassuring nod to the surgeon. Dr. Stephens held his hand toward the door, indicating that they could enter, and turned on his heel, walking away.

Kate took a breath and pushed the door open. She found it odd to be so nervous about seeing someone just out of surgery, after all the time she had spent in hospitals during her residency and brief career. But the fact remained that this wasn't just _anyone_; this was man she loved, and his close call had terrified her almost to the point of desperation.

She stepped toward the bed and her heart ached at the sight of him, unconscious, intubated, and incredibly pale. Without thinking, her practiced eyes scanned his condition, beginning with the IV bags containing saline and blood, and ending on his chest to check his breathing. He seemed stable. She stepped forward and stroked his hair with her right hand while her left fell subconsciously to her abdomen in an almost protective gesture.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Ducky stiffen, and heard a muted, "Oh, dear."

She turned to him, and he looked at her knowingly. "And how far along are you, young Katherine?"

She sucked in a quick breath, her eyes widening, and she glanced from Jethro back to Ducky in quick succession. "How—" she started to say, before stopping and simply shaking her head.

Ducky gave a small smile in response. "I am but an amateur, but I have studied a bit of psychology, my dear. I've observed enough in the past couple of hours to lead me to believe that you are with child."

Kate raised her eyebrows and huffed out a disbelieving laugh. Shaking her head with quasi-amusement, she said, "You are indeed every bit as impressive as I was led to believe, Dr. Mallard."

He only looked at her with a small smile until she remembered his original question.

"Ah, yes. I'm fourteen weeks," she said. "Due in mid-June." She opened her mouth to continue, but stopped short when she glanced at Jethro and saw that he was stirring slightly. She reached for his hand and squeezed in encouragement. "C'mon, J," she murmured, unconcerned with Ducky's presence. "Open your eyes for me, Babe."

After a moment, he was alert enough to crack open his eyes, and then a moment after that, they flew wide open as he awakened enough to register the tube that was in his throat. Kate slapped at the nurse call button as Jethro briefly attempted to sit up before the pain associated with his surgical site crippled him. Lying back, he reached up out of instinct to grab at the tube before Kate and Ducky simultaneously restrained him. His eyes, though clouded, still managed to flash with anger and he gagged visibly. "I know, Babe—you want it out," Kate tried to soothe. "I've called for the nurse—" she began, but the sight of his clear misery and panic stopped her short. "Aw, hell," she muttered, realizing his discomfort. She glanced at Ducky, shaking her head helplessly. "We're both doctors. Here, give me a hand," she commanded as she began to pick at the tape holding the tube in place. Ducky shook his head but looked poised to assist, regardless. He placed his head behind his friend's neck as Kate pulled the last of the tape free. Kate leaned down and looked Jethro in the eyes. "This will be uncomfortable and it will make you gag," she said matter-of-factly. "Now, I need you to cough, and I'll remove it. Ready?"

Jethro nodded, eyes still slightly panicked.

"Okay, cough," Kate commanded. Jethro obeyed without hesitating and Ducky held his head in place as Kate tugged gently on the tube, pulling it free. Jethro gagged as the tube was removed, and the post-anesthesia nausea overwhelmed him; Kate was barely able to grab a kidney-shaped bowl in time for him to vomit weakly into it.

She tossed the bowl roughly into the sink as he sank back, clearly exhausted. "Kate," he rasped hoarsely, wincing.

"Shh," she whispered. "Relax."

His eyes searched hers and he glanced down at his abdomen, toward the site of the pain. "What happened?" he asked weakly.

Kate glanced toward Ducky uncertainly and then gazed back into Jethro's eyes. "What do you remember?" she asked.

Jethro closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating. "I remember going to…interview a guy. He pulled a weapon…" his voice trailed off. He searched his memory, looking hazily into the distance. "I remember…" he looked up at her, his eyes suddenly clear. "I gave my phone to Tony and told him to call you."

Kate rolled her eyes in spite of herself. "Yes. Thanks for the near-heart attack, by the way."

She quickly filled in the blanks. "You were shot twice, once in the left shoulder, and once in the abdomen. You've lost quite a bit of blood." She paused, swallowing, unsure whether to continue. She looked at Ducky for guidance and he nodded in encouragement.

"They had to remove your spleen, J," she whispered.

He looked her, his eyes unsure.

"You can live without it. But you'll be much more prone to infection. You've gotten quite a few vaccines today," she continued.

"When can I go home?" he asked and Ducky chuckled. Kate looked over at him.

He nodded knowingly, smirking. "I think our Jethro will be back to his old self in no time. Ah, yes, see that?" he added as Gibbs shot him a glare. Kate couldn't help but smile.

"Seriously," he growled. "How long do I have to stay here?"

Kate was about to answer when a nurse hurried in to respond to the call button. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw the removed tube lying on the bed next to Jethro. "What on earth is going on here?" she exclaimed. She looked incensed and panicked. "Did you…_extubate_ him _yourself_?" she practically shouted at them.

Kate held up a commanding hand. She spoke with a voice full of confident authority, though she decided to leave Ducky out of it. "I am his fiancée _and_ a physician. He regained consciousness and was clearly ready to be extubated. There was no sense in waiting for someone else when he was in such plain discomfort and had someone who has performed this procedure hundreds of times standing right by his side." Her voice held a finality that practically dared the nurse to challenge her, and she was pleased to see the woman visibly back down.

"Dr. Stephens will want to know that he has regained consciousness," Kate continued. "Would you mind getting him, please?"

The nurse nodded, wide-eyed, clearly still unnerved by being called out in her own territory, and left the room.

Kate and Ducky glanced at each other and then back at Jethro. "How long?" he growled again, undeterred by the interruption.

Kate shrugged, finally beginning to relax. "Normally, it would be several days—there are some potential complications from a splenectomy that they have to look for—but—" she held up a hand against the look of angry defiance on his face—" as it turns out, you happen to be rather cozy with a doctor, so as long as you agree to stay with said doctor for a few days, your surgeon says we can probably have you out of here in a day or so, so long as everything continues to look good," she finished with a smile.

Jethro looked at her through narrowed eyes for a moment, considering, before he suddenly turned to Ducky.

"Duck," he rasped. "I need you to do me a favor," he said, sliding his eyes back toward Kate, who raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Of course, Jethro," Ducky replied, sounding willing but confused.

Jethro reached for Kate's hand and caressed it gently as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow, clearly exhausted. "She's pregnant," he stated plainly, eyes still closed. "She doesn't eat when she's stressed. Make sure she eats while I'm stuck in here," he finished, mumbling.

His easy admission left Kate's eyebrows nearly up to her hairline, but Ducky only nodded in acceptance. "I will certainly do that, Jethro. And may I offer my congratulations?"

"Mmm," Jethro grunted in response, but the small smile playing on his lips did not escape Ducky's notice, nor did the fact that Jethro's hand was gently caressing Kate's smaller hand as it lay in his. Ducky allowed a small smile to cross his own lips as he watched Kate gaze down at Jethro, a look of fierce love on her face.

These two, he thought, just might make it.


	25. Chapter 25

_**Four Weeks Later**_

Dr. Katherine Gibbs fidgeted a bit in the waiting room, smiling unabashedly at her freshly-minted husband. She lazily fingered the band that he had nestled on her finger and then locked in place with her engagement ring the night prior. It was real. Four months ago she hadn't even been in a relationship. Now she was married to the man of her dreams.

She had tried to convince him, despite his objections, that she needed nothing more than a simple ceremony with a justice of the peace. He, on the other hand, worried that she was missing her chance for a _real_ wedding. In the end, they had compromised, and had been married the previous evening in the Capitol Rotunda by the Secretary of the Navy himself. It was small, simple, and infinitely memorable, due to the dramatic locale. The wedding had been witnessed by Ducky and Allison, and attended by only Kate's parents and brother, and Jethro's father. Jethro had worn a dark blue suit and Kate had worn an elegant dress in an ivory color that set off her red hair and blue eyes to perfection. Jethro had kissed his new bride with a passion and contentment that surprised even him, and somehow, everything settled into place in his heart in that moment.

If it wasn't enough that the previous night had been their wedding night, they had actually gotten to sleep in a bit this morning—and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, because the amount of _celebrating_ that had taken place in their bedroom had left her completely exhausted. They had gotten to sleep in because today was the day they were going to find out the sex of their baby, and they were therefore each going into work late.

In the chaos surrounding Jethro's gunshot wound and recovery, Kate had cancelled the previous appointment in which they were supposed to have a detailed ultrasound, and had very much been looking forward to this day ever since. It was a week before Christmas; they would take a proper honeymoon during the Christmas holiday—until then, they would work and continue as normal.

The past several weeks had been trying, revealing, and fulfilling for them both. He had learned to lean on her as he was recovering from his injuries and subsequent surgery. She had learned to let go and allow him do what he could; his perception of his own masculinity depended on it.

Decisions had been made; he would move into her house, but would keep his home, as it was paid for and thus not a financial burden. He was loathe to relinquish his sanctuary—the basement workshop, and the fact that it was the house where he had raised his daughter gave it a certain emotional significance that Kate could not willingly ask him to give up.

"Katherine Andrews?" a nurse poked her head out into the waiting room. Kate and Jethro stood and grinned at each other, not bothering to correct the errant nurse on her innocent mistake. After all, she'd only been Katherine Gibbs for fifteen hours.

Ten minutes later, Kate was in position on the table for the ultrasound, Jethro in a chair by her side. Their eyes were glued to the giant plasma mounted on the wall in front of them, where the ultrasound tech was transmitting the images being picked up during the procedure. The normal measurements were taken, the heart, brain, stomach, and bladder were all looked at for abnormalities, and Kate laughingly pointed out tiny clenched fists and a profile view of a nose that looked stunningly like her own. She watched her husband's reactions carefully, wondering what he was feeling inside. She knew he was struggling with his emotions toward this pregnancy and though she was reluctant to push him to talk, she didn't like feeling so unprepared for how we might react if it turned out that their baby was a girl—his second daughter.

When the tech looked at them and asked if they wanted to know the baby's sex, Kate nodded eagerly, glancing at Jethro with a grin. He returned a small smile of his own, wiping his palms on his pants in an unconscious gesture of nervousness.

As the ultrasound technician moved the probe over her belly, searching for the baby's underside, Kate's heart began to race in anticipation of what she would find there. And as the probe finally hit paydirt, Kate released a small, involuntary sob at the tell-tale line she saw, and her eyes sought out Jethro's as the ultrasound tech spoke up with a grin, "You want to do the honors, Dr. Andrews?" Kate glanced briefly toward the tech with a look of thanks before she looked once more at her husband, her eyes shining with both joy and fear. She was unsure as to how he would take the news. Jethro's eyes met hers, impatience and expectation breaking through all at once. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes expectant and anxious.

Kate took a deep breath. She just didn't know how he would handle this. She went for broke.

"How do you feel about having another little girl, J?" she asked softly, her voice betraying the uncertainty she felt. She heard her voice crack and wanted to kick herself for the thoughts that she knew he would read in it—would _their_ little girl be as good as the one he had so tragically lost?

Kate was stunned to see the glimmer of tears in his eyes, and he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and rubbing his hands over his mouth as he gazed up at the plasma screen in disbelief. Another daughter. Surreal.

He looked at her, suddenly recognizing the look on her face as uncertainty and fear, and he reached out, taking her hand. He rose from his seat, getting closer to his wife, and ignoring the ultrasound tech as he looked at Kate. His throat was tight, aching, and he didn't trust himself to speak just then. So instead he just locked his gaze on hers and nodded firmly, infusing all of the reassurance he possibly could into that one simple gesture. He squeezed her hand tightly and Kate knew he was having a difficult time holding it together.

Kate swallowed hard and nodded back at him, squeezing his hand in return, and looking back toward the ultrasound tech as she finished her measurements of their daughter.

Not a word was spoken as they exited the doctor's office, heading to their respective cars, ready to start their workday. Jethro walked Kate to her car and then, looking off into the distance, put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tightly to him, kissing the side of her head firmly.

"Ok, then," she smiled, swallowing hard. "I'm going to head in to the office for a few hours and then cut out early to get ready for tonight. Love you," she said quietly as she ducked into her car.

Kate had warned that Jethro's team would be disappointed that, with the exception of Ducky, they had neither been told of nor invited to their wedding ceremony, and Jethro knew, whether he admitted it or not, that she was right. It was for this reason that he grudgingly agreed to her suggestion that he invite his team to dinner at their home that evening—to smooth over any hurt feelings—and to break the news of the pregnancy. She had not seen any of his team since Jethro's discharge from the hospital and her condition was now obvious. She was clearly pregnant, and there was no point in trying to hide it. She knew Jethro would not be comfortable making such an announcement, so she figured she could do that much for him.

Jethro stepped off the elevator and headed toward the bullpen with his coffee, torn between delaying the inevitable and just getting it over with. He knew he really had no choice, so he forged ahead with no visible hesitation, determined to get it over with as soon as possible.

The first part of the inevitable—telling Abby—had gone much better than he had hoped. He had half-expected tears and pouty lips from her as payback for not telling her in advance that he was getting married, but was pleasantly surprised to receive nothing more than a squeal and a bone-crushing hug. He was not, however, naïve enough to believe that he could expect the same good luck with DiNozzo.

"Morning," he grunted as he placed his coffee on his desk and seated himself, barely acknowledging his three subordinates as he glanced unwillingly toward his computer at the emails that were surely awaiting him.

"Uh, morning, Boss," Tony replied, curious as to why Gibbs was late—again. Jethro looked up at him in acknowledgement.

Tony's eyes widened when they lit upon the shiny gold band on Gibbs' ring finger. Gibbs raised an eyebrow, as if _daring_ him to make a joke about Bride Number Five, and was floored when Tony simply grinned and stuck out his hand. "Congratulations, Boss," he said with a genuine smile.

Gibbs was surprised to find himself grinning back as he placed his hand in Tony's strong grip and shook heartily.

'_Everybody's gone nuts,' _he thought to himself, _'or maybe it's just the Christmas spirit.'_

McGee's mouth was hanging open and Ziva sat in her chair, a smug little smile playing across her lips.

"Kate wants everyone to come for dinner tonight," he grunted before either of them had a chance to speak. "I'll email you the address," he added, shutting down any further inquiries. He looked up at his team. "What the hell are you looking at? Get to work," he snapped.

At 6:30, the doorbell rang. Gibbs wiped his hands on a towel, grazed his lips across Kate's, and said, "That'll be Abby. Stay here for a minute, okay?" With that, he strode to the front door and pulled it open. Abby bustled in, gushing as usual. "What a beautiful house, Gibbs! This is so perfect for you! I love the front yard, and I love the Christmas decorations! Where's the little lady?" she rambled before Gibbs placed a finger over her mouth.

"Abs," he admonished, smiling. "Can I get a word in?" Abby clamped her mouth shut, smirking. "I know you were disappointed I didn't tell you that I was getting married, and I'm sorry. I thought I'd make it up to you by letting you be the first to know about something else. Kate?" he called.

Kate emerged from the kitchen, smiling at Abby in welcome, and grinned wider when Abby's gaze immediately dropped to her burgeoning belly. Abby's eyes widened and her jaw fell noiselessly. She glanced frantically back and forth from Gibbs to Kate, as if unsure who to tackle first. Gibbs, who was standing directly next to her, eventually won, and was nearly knocked down by the force of Abby's hug. She squealed into his ear, making him wince in pain, and then released him and barreled toward Kate. "Abby!" Gibbs growled in warning, and Abby immediately slowed her approach and hugged Kate gently.

"Congratulations, Kate," she murmured warmly into her ear.

Kate laughed. "Thank you, Abby," she said with genuine pleasure.

"How long have you known? Is it a boy or a girl? When are you due? How are you feeling?" Abby bombarded Kate with questions in typical Abby fashion. Gibbs rolled his eyes, but Kate only laughed again.

"I've known since September, and I'm due in June. I feel great." She looked at her husband and asked with her eyes if it was okay to share the last detail. Gibbs shrugged. "And we just found out this morning that we're having a little girl," she added.

Abby squealed in delight and pulled a laughing Kate flush against her chest once again.

"Come on," Kate said, grinning. "Come into the kitchen while I finish up dinner and we'll chat."

Half an hour later, the doorbell rang again, and Gibbs opened it to find Tony and Ziva standing on the porch, with McGee coming up the walkway behind them. "You guys all ride together?" he questioned, inexplicably irritated by the thought.

"Nah, Boss…just good timing, apparently," DiNozzo answered, gesturing to Ziva to enter ahead of him.

"Kate's just finishing up with the salad if you want to go ahead and have a seat," Gibbs offered, waving vaguely toward the dining room table. He had no idea how this whole entertaining thing was supposed to work and he felt ill at ease being out of his usual element with his team.

As if reading his thoughts, Kate breezed in, Abby on her heels. "Hi, guys!" Kate greeted brightly. She was holding a large salad bowl, which obscured her midsection enough that the bulge in her belly wouldn't be noticed by anyone who wasn't looking for it. "Anyone hungry?" she asked, placing the bowl on the table.

Gibbs watched Tony glance down at the rings that now numbered two on Kate's finger, and then, eyes widening once again, at the defined bulge that revealed itself as Kate set the salad bowl down. Fingers twitching, readying for a head slap, Gibbs watched in muted surprise as Tony glanced over at him and said with a grin, "It seems that there are more congratulations in order today, Boss.

Gibbs was puzzling over Tony's uncharacteristic maturity when, in a rare display of articulation, McGee raised his eyebrows and said, "Wow. Didn't see _that_ coming."

Ziva, again, only smiled lightly and offered a quiet, "Mazal tov," with a gentle dipping of her chin in acknowledgement.

And Abby, of course, added yet another squeal. "Go on, Kate! Spill all the details on the little Gibblet!"

Kate grinned. "Gibblet? I think I like it." She glanced pointedly at her husband, who shrugged. "Well, since _he_ doesn't seem to be interested in sharing details, I suppose I will. Said Gibblet is a little _girl_, who is due to make her appearance in early June." Kate looked around, realizing that everyone was still standing. "Go on, sit down! Dinner's ready—have a seat and we'll chat while we eat."

One helping of fettuccine alfredo, one comment from Tony about stealing Gibbs' wife away because it was nearly _illegal_ to make such good Italian food outside of Italy, and one solid head-slap later, Gibbs found himself feeling fairly content, which surprised him. He was taken aback at the ease with which Kate had joined in with his co-workers' normal playful banter, and he suddenly found himself feeling like the odd man out. He wondered absently if his team viewed him that way. They always made an effort to include him in their social activities, and yet he rarely accepted. Perhaps the time had come to change that. It may have been the three glasses of sauvignon blanc, it may have been the lack of stress that came with dinner in a proper setting (rather than staring at the plasma screen), or perhaps it may have been that he was just more content than he'd been in years, but he found himself laughing along at Ziva's constant digs toward Tony, and looking indulgently at Tim as he failed miserably at hiding his own affection for Abby. He mentally shrugged. Rule Twelve be damned. If Abby and Tim could be happy together, he had no problem with it. And he knew he could trust McGee to treat Abby like she should be treated.

He was shocked to find himself disappointed to find the small party breaking up after dessert. He had truly enjoyed himself and found himself wondering what the hell his problem had been for so long. Life was short; he needed to enjoy himself more.

Tony, Tim, and Ziva left first, with Abby lingering behind, having fallen in love with the idea of a Gibblet on the way. She had finally gathered her things and headed toward the door, Gibbs and Kate following behind, when she turned back and took Gibbs' hands in her own.

"Gibbs," she began, "I am really, _really_ happy for you." Her eyes bored into his, as if willing him to understand how serious she was. "You deserve this. Every bit of it. You too, Kate," she said, switching gears and hugging Kate for the tenth time that night.

Gibbs, in a rare display of affection, stepped behind his wife and wrapped his arms tightly, affectionately, around her waist, caressing the small bump beneath. He released a small chuckle and kissed her neck gently before releasing her and leaning easily into Abby's waiting arms with a laugh and a grin. "'Night, Abs," he said affectionately. "Be safe."

**A/N: Yes, I realize that it has been roughly fourteen years since I uploaded an update. I am sorry. My life has lately consisted of being A) insanely busy, B) totally uninspired, or C) inspired but unable to come up with anything remotely approaching decent. I hate this chapter passionately, but I'm ready to just have it done. Christmas is up next, and then we are quickly approaching the end. **

**Oh, and the devastating news I alluded to in my A/N in the last chapter? My husband (an IT director) and I were totally blindsided when his company announced a sellout, and he lost his job. In our ten years of marriage, this was the first job loss either of us has experienced, and since he is the primary breadwinner, I was FREAKING. However, he quickly snagged an even BETTER position as the IT director for an entire hospital, and it even came with a pay raise. So all is right in my world once again. :) **


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: If you are new to this story, I apologize for the lack of line breaks in earlier chapters. For some (as yet unknown) reason, they have disappeared; whereas they really were there when the chapters were originally published (they have only recently disappeared). I briefly considered re-uploading all previous chapters with new line breaks, before deciding that I just really don't care that much. I did, however, want to make sure that you crazy kids understand that I'm not just a complete moron who has no clue how to separate one scene from the next. I'm trying to figure out a way to do it now that will work…**

**And yeah, I know it's been four months since I updated. Please remember—husband, two small children, full-time job. **

_**Christmas Eve, 7 p.m.**_

Kate sat atop the suitcase, struggling to zip it. She bounced, hoping the extra weight pressing down would enable her to get it closed. Jethro walked in at that exact moment and rolled his eyes at the sight.

"Oh, for God's sake, Kate, get off the damn suitcase." She obliged and watched lustily as his forearms flexed and he closed the suitcase, then picked it up and swung it off the bed seemingly effortlessly. She growled and lunged at him, knocking him backward onto the bed and straddling him. He laughed. "Again, Kate? You're wearing me out," he groaned playfully.

"Shut up and kiss me," she muttered, leaning down to capture his lips in hers greedily. He obliged happily, letting his hands roam up under her shirt, over her back, and to her bra, which he unclasped with ease. He moved his hands to her front and grasped her heavy breasts eagerly. Her firm belly pressed against him, and god, it never failed to arouse him. She was careful to avoid putting much weight on the still-healing scar from his splenectomy, but he didn't care. He wanted her, and he wanted her now. She ground her hips against him, and he bucked up against her, flipping her onto her back. Two pillows tumbled to the ground from their still-made bed, and he thought briefly about getting her between the sheets before he decided that it would be far too much effort for the ten seconds that this was going to take. In her impregnated state, she was far, far too easy, and he saw no sense in dragging things out.

Gibbs pulled Kate's shirt off and rid her of the bra before pulling his own shirt off and pressing himself down on her for another deep kiss. Kate's hands were fumbling with the belt on his jeans, and he broke their kiss long enough to shuck off his jeans and pull her yoga pants down, panties and all. Just like that, they were both naked, and he thrust himself into her with no fanfare. _"God, J,"_ she gasped beneath him. _"Yes,"_ she mumbled, barely coherent. "Harder," she commanded. He obliged, and in no more than thirty seconds, she was gasping and moaning beneath him. The sounds she made never failed to push him over the edge and he held on until the end of her orgasm before he dipped his head down into her neck and let himself go inside of her.

They lay there for a moment, panting, until Kate said, "Oh, god, that was a mistake. All I want to do is go to sleep now, and I still have a hundred things to do before tomorrow morning…"

Their flight to the Bahamas for their belated honeymoon was leaving at 7 the next morning, and they were spending their Christmas Eve packing before exchanging gifts. Jethro had placed no gifts for her under the tree, but she was more than a little intrigued by the fact that the door to the room that had been designated as the nursery was locked, and there was a small silver bow on the handle, with a little sign that said, "Do not open until Christmas." She knew that he had taken two days off of work in the past week, and tell-tale odor of paint that lingered in the hallway made her wonder exactly what he'd been up to in there. She figured she'd probably find the walls painted in the sweet shade of green she had chosen, but had he also ordered furniture, she wondered?

"Ok," she said aloud. "Enough laziness. Get up, Casanova," she commanded.

"Kate," he whined playfully. "I'm old. You can't expect me to put out like this and not show any ill effects."

Kate snorted. He was the strongest damn man she knew—in every sense of the word. It was a cheesy thing to admit—even to herself—but she fell a little more in love with him every day. And _god,_ she never stopped wanting him. She definitely wasn't complaining, but even _she_ had to admit that all the sex was wearing them both out. She was looking forward to a week in the Caribbean sun, with nothing to do but eat, sleep, play, and make love.

"Come on," she said, hopping up and pulling him reluctantly to his feet. "I want to give you your Christmas gifts," she said with an excited grin.

Feeling indulgent, he slipped back into his t-shirt and boxers as she pulled on a silk robe, and obediently followed her to the foot of the tree in the living room, where he plopped down onto the floor. There were three gifts that bore his name under the tree. She pulled out the first one and handed it to him unceremoniously. He ripped the paper off and opened the box that it revealed. Inside lay a watch—silver-colored, with a black face, and a name on the face that sounded vaguely Italian. He lifted the watch out; he knew little of jewelry, but this watch looked and felt very expensive without being overly in-your-face. It was simple and elegantly masculine and he found that he liked it immensely. He decided he didn't want to know how much she'd paid for it.

"Turn it over," Kate instructed before he had a chance to say anything. He complied and saw a small inscription on the back of the watch.

_To LJG_

_Love you forever—_

_KAG_

Jethro looked up at her, feeling inexplicably emotional. After all, it was just a watch, right? He reached out to caress her face. "I love it," he said. "Thank you." He slipped the watch onto his wrist and was pleased to find that it fit perfectly, without having to remove any of the links.

Kate pushed the next gift into his hands—it was about the size of a spiral notebook, but flat and very light. He had no idea what could possibly be inside it. Kate grinned as he began to tug at the paper wrapping the gift. "I think you'll like this one," she said mischievously. As Jethro finished removing the paper and opened the folder that was inside, he had to agree with her assessment.

"Yes," he said in a very quiet, husky voice. "I do indeed."

He was holding in his hands three 8 x 10 black and white photographs of his wife, and she was nude in each of them. In the first photo, a side shot, she was sitting on her legs, her heels tucked up underneath her, her belly protruding slightly. Her right arm crossed her chest, covering her breasts, and her long, wavy red hair tumbled down her back. He thought it was the single most sensuous photograph he had ever seen in his life—until he got to the next one. In this one, Kate was still sitting on her knees, but she was now facing the camera, and she was completely exposed to him. Her elegant hands cradled the bulge of her stomach, and the sight of her swollen breasts immediately elicited a tingle in his crotch. Her face held the faintest of smiles and her hair was once again flowing down her back, a stray curl or two having made their way over her shoulder.

But it was the last photo that took his breath away. In this one, she was leaning back on her elbows, her head thrown back, exposing her neck to the camera, her breasts and stomach on full display, and her right knee bent and drawn slightly over her left leg. It had been all of ten minutes, and damn it all, he wanted her _again_.

"These are…" he trailed off, at a loss for words. "Who did them?" He was silently thinking that if the photographer had been male, he would hunt the guy down and kill him with his bare hands.

Kate grinned. "My partner Jay's wife happens to be an extremely in-demand photographer in the greater D.C. area, and she offered to take photos for me as a wedding gift. She came last week on my day off and did the photos in our bedroom. There are a few more, but those were the ones I thought you would like the most. She wants to come back and do more with both of us in them when I'm closer to delivery. Those would be a little bit more, ah, _family-friendly_," she finished with a smirk.

Gibbs shook his head as he continued looking at the photographs of his wife. "You're exquisite," he murmured. "What the hell are you doing with me?" he asked with a little smile.

Kate swatted his arm. "Ok, um…here's your last gift," he said, handing him the remaining box from beneath the tree.

She watched carefully as he began to peel back the wrapping paper, and as he glanced up at her, he was surprised to find that Kate seemed nervous about the gift. She was twisting her hands together in the way that she did when she was anxious about something. He wrinkled his brows, wondering what could possibly have her so apprehensive over a simple Christmas gift. He finished unwrapping the gift, and looked up at her, mystified, as he removed the small object from the box.

"Look, I know we haven't talked about names yet, and if you don't like the idea, we can change it…it's not like it's set in stone or anything," she rushed. "It was just an idea I had, so I had something made to go in her room, thinking I'd run the idea by you…"

He looked at the pillow Kate had had embroidered with a monogram. In the middle of the green pillow, a large pink _"G"_ was scripted. On either side, in a slightly smaller font size, were the letters _"L" _and _"K"_. Jethro looked back up at Kate questioningly.

She pressed her lips together, clearly anxious. "I've always loved the name Lauren, and since my mom's name is Laura, I thought it could kind of be in honor of her…" Kate twisted her hands together again, hesitant. "And then…if you didn't mind…I mean…if you're okay with it…I thought maybe we could use…Kelly…as her middle name…" she trailed off.

Jethro looked at her speechlessly, his face a blank. Kate's first reaction was panic. She began to ramble once again. "I'm sorry I didn't discuss it with you first…and if you don't like the idea we can go with something else," she said quickly. "It wasn't meant to indicate that the new baby is a replacement, J," she rushed. "I just wanted to show that no matter what happens, you'll never forget Kelly and that she'll always be—" Kate clamped her lips together as Jethro placed a single finger over her lips, indicating that she should shut up.

Kate sat tight, employing every ounce of discipline she had ever owned as she waited for him to form some sort of coherent words.

She watched as Jethro fingered the pillow gently, running his hands over the embroidered "K" on it, his throat tightening. She was beginning to fear that she had made a very large misstep.

Slowly, he looked back up at her. "I don't know what to say," he whispered.

"Please, J, say something…_anything,_" Kate pleaded, overrun by anxiety once again.

Suddenly, his face cleared and a small smiled played over his lips.

"Lauren Kelly," he murmured. "I love it."

A moment of silence passed as they looked at each other.

Finally, Kate gathered her wits about her. "Are you sure, J?" she asked, uncertainly.

He only nodded, his strong hands gripping the pillow tightly. After a moment, he whispered, "Lauren."

Another weighty moment passed before Jethro stood to his feet, cleared his throat, and announced, "Okay, your turn," tugging Kate to her feet.

Kate raised an eyebrow and followed obediently as he led her down the hallway to the door of the future nursery. She was anxious to see what awaited her inside.

"Close your eyes," he instructed. She obeyed, a small grin on her face.

She listened as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. He gently guided her into the room. The smell of paint was stronger now, but there was an additional odor that gave her pause. It smelled like freshly cut wood.

"Okay," he said without fanfare. Kate opened her eyes and looked around. The walls were indeed painted in the soft green color she had chosen, but she spent only a split second appreciating that fact before registering the unfamiliar furniture that was now inhabiting the room. In the corner, there was a wooden rocking chair that looked well-loved. The rest of the furniture, however—a crib, a cradle, and a dresser—were beautiful but odd-looking. Upon closer inspection, she realized that the wood was unfinished. She ran a hand along the smooth rail of the empty crib and her eyes widened as she connected the dots.

"Oh my god," she said. "You _made_ this."

Gibbs smiled. "Of course I did."

"You _made_ our daughter's furniture," she repeated.

"Mm-hmm," he responded mildly. "I figured I'd let you choose the finish," he explained. "It's ash wood—you can pretty much finish it in whatever color you'd like. Just decide what you want and I'll get it done before she gets here," he said warmly.

Kate was barely listening. She was running her hands along the silky smooth wood of the crib and dresser, and trying out the cradle. It rocked back and forth beautifully. She wasn't entirely sure that her husband hadn't missed his calling in life. She moved toward the other side of the room and gestured toward the rocking chair. "What's the story there?" she asked.

Jethro swallowed. "There's a little Amish settlement not far from where I grew up in Pennsylvania," he explained. "I bought the rocker from an Amish man when Kelly was a baby." He cleared his throat. "I didn't know if you'd mind, but it's a good piece of furniture," he added.

Kate sat down experimentally in the chair. It was solid and comfortable. She rocked back and forth. Yes, it would do nicely.

She nodded. "It's perfect." Rising once again, she crossed to him and took his face in her hands. "I have no idea what to say. This," she said, gesturing to the room, "...is amazing. Thank you," she finished, punctuating her words with a firm kiss on his mouth.

She took the pillow from Jethro's hands and placed it on the rocking chair. She tilted her head and looked at it critically before glancing back up at her husband with a grin.

"Perfect," she repeated.


	27. Chapter 27

_**Five months later**_

Kate awakened—again—and noted the time, wincing, as the pressure of another contraction began to build. It was six a.m., and though her due date was not for another week, she had been contracting regularly for the past three hours. She breathed deeply as she glanced toward the bathroom, making sure her husband was duly occupied with getting dressed. She hoped he would hurry and leave for work—she had no intention whatsoever of letting him know she was in labor until she was ready to go to the hospital. The last thing she needed was an anxious, overbearing husband breathing down her neck as she labored through hours of contractions.

She glanced at the clock once again as the contraction began to fade. The discomfort was minor at this point, but she knew that, at ten minutes between contractions, she had hours to go still. He'd be pissed when he found out, that was for sure, but she didn't care. She had her own way of dealing with pain, and it was imperative that she be able to concentrate on keeping herself in a certain mental zone. She needed to be able to manage the pain as effectively as possible, for as long as possible, in order to wait until the last minute to go to the hospital. Not only did she not want to be confined to a bed until it was absolutely necessary, but she fully intended to do this naturally, and she didn't want to get to the hospital too early, only to be tempted by the epidural.

She heard her husband clipping his badge and gun onto his belt, and she quickly rolled over, feigning sleep, before he exited their bathroom. She felt him approach and she opened her eyes with a sleepy smile as he pressed his lips gently to her forehead. "I'm gone, Babe," he murmured quietly. "Enjoy your day off." She managed another small smile even as she was inwardly muttering, "_Fat__chance._"

OoOoO

_**Nine a.m.**_

Kate gritted her teeth as the contraction wound down, trying valiantly to focus on the balance beam routine she was watching. She had recorded April's NCAA gymnastics championships in preparation for just this occasion, in the hopes that critiquing gymnastics performances would be a good distraction from the pain of labor. She wasn't sure yet if it was working or not.

"_Nice_ dismou-," she muttered to herself a moment later, only to be cut off as the pain of another contraction wracked her midsection. She was progressing more quickly than she had expected, and she was finding that labor sucked every bit as much as its reputation suggested. She still felt as though she was in control, but it was requiring more and more of her concentration—and more and more energy—to manage the pain.

She stood to pace her living room, one eye on the TV, in an effort to speed things up even more. She was dying to meet her daughter, and though the pain was intense, she had no doubt it would be worth it.

OoOoO

_**Noon**_

Kate panted, trying to control the pain, rather than letting it control her. It was getting more difficult. She rocked back and forth, counting her breaths as she waited for the end of the contraction to arrive at last. They were getting longer and harder, with less and less time to recover between them. She glanced at the clock—it was noon. She knew that she was getting close to the most difficult part—transitional labor— and she would need help navigating that intensity of pain. It was time to call Jethro. She hit "send" on her phone as the contraction was tapering off, intending to talk quickly—she had only a minute at most before the next one began.

OoOoO

Leroy Jethro Gibbs stood staring at the flat screen as McGee flashed through images of evidence related to a case they were working. His phone buzzed and he held it up to his ear absently. "Gibbs," he muttered absently, his practiced eyes scanning the evidence before him.

"Hey, Babe, what's up?" ame his wife's voice, sounding vaguely breathless.

Gibbs frowned. "Uhhh, you okay?" he asked.

She ignored his question. "You in the middle of something?" she asked, her voice still not quite right.

Gibbs turned away from the plasma screen, narrowing his eyes, and gave her his full attention. "Kate, are you all right?" he demanded.

"Umm, not exactly," came her reply.

Gibbs sighed. Then, in a tone more suited for a five-year-old than a thirty-year-old woman, he asked, "Kate, are you in labor?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"When did it start?" he asked, torn between concern and annoyance.

She sighed mentally. "About three this morning," she admitted.

She could hear the fury in his voice as he barked, "_What?__" _He was every bit as pissed as she'd expected. "You let me leave for work without telling me you were in labor?"

"I knew it would be hours, Jethro—I didn't need you breathing down my neck all day," she spat. "I'm trying to—" her words were cut off in a whoosh as another contraction slammed into her. Jethro's eyes widened at the sounds of her gasps as he hurriedly tried to pack up his stuff with one hand. She managed a strained and breathy, "_Hurry_," and his anger instantly dissipated. He stood, abandoning his things, and headed for the elevator, tossing a nod and a look back at Tony, who had been listening to the conversation. Tony gave him a reassuring nod and a thumbs-up, indicating that he had it under control, and Gibbs nodded back before rushing into the elevator with a muted but forceful, "Hang on, Kate, I'm on my way."

OoOoO

_**12:35 p.m.**_

Kate lay on the couch, waiting for Jethro to arrive, gasping as she tried to recover from the latest contraction. She had only thirty or forty seconds between them, and it was taking all of her concentration not to panic. She was more exhausted than she had ever been, and the hardest part was still to come. She heard the door open, and she attempted to rise from the couch, only to collapse back as another contraction wracked her body. Jethro moved quickly toward her, kneeling on the floor at her feet. She grabbed for his hands, and he willingly obliged, concern etched in his face. She locked her eyes with his as she panted through it, and he was alarmed by the exhaustion and fear he saw there. Jethro tried not to wince at the pain coursing through his hands as she squeezed them. He ticked off the seconds in his mind as she panted in front of him, and was shocked as he passed 45 seconds, 60 seconds, and then 90 seconds, with no sign of the contraction coming to an end. Finally, after nearly two minutes, Kate's breathing began to slow, and she loosened her vise-like grip on his hands. She slumped down, exhausted, and Jethro rose from his knees to sit beside her, smoothing a damp strand of red hair off of her forehead and tucking it behind her ear.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked her softly, his previous anger forgotten.

She shook her head helplessly as she tried to catch her breath. "Grab the bag," she panted, nodding to the duffel bag by the front door, "get me in…the car…" she continued, "and call my mom," she finished, trying desperately to catch her breath, knowing the next contraction would begin at any time. "We need to hurry, J…it's getting close—"she ended the word with a sharp hiss as the next contraction hit, and Jethro began to understand why she hadn't wanted him around earlier. To see her like this, unable to do anything to alleviate her pain, was maddening. He had no idea what to do—if she wanted to be touched, if she wanted to be talked to, if she wanted him to just leave her the hell alone. He settled for sitting there, gently caressing her hair away from her face, until it was over. She sucked in a deep breath and said, "We need to go—_now,_' and attempted to rise from the couch. He jumped to his feet and pulled her up, then gently led her to the front door. He grabbed the hospital bag from by the door and slung it over his shoulder as he guided her out and locked the door behind them. They made it to the car door before the next contraction hit, and she let out a dull moan before leaning her arms against the hood of the car and dropping her head onto them to wait it out. Gibbs took a gamble and rubbed her lower back gently as she leaned there, remembering vaguely that Shannon had had back pain while in labor with Kelly. He was gratified when, as the contraction tapered off, Kate reached around and squeezed his hand wearily in thanks. She moved aside as Jethro yanked her car door open and helped her get seated inside, leaning her head back heavily against the headrest. Closing her eyes, she mumbled, "There's a towel in the duffel bag. Grab it for me."

Jethro didn't question her, opening the bag and retrieving the towel as ordered. "Roll it up," she commanded wearily. He handed it to her, and without opening her eyes, she wedged it between her legs so that she was seated somewhat straddling the rolled-up towel. Jethro jogged around the car and got in, buckling his seatbelt and starting the ignition simultaneously as Kate, eyes still closed, explained, "My water hasn't broken yet. Won't be long. Might as well be prepar—" she left the word unfinished as another contraction washed over her.

Unable to do anything to help her while driving, Jethro clenched the steering wheel in frustration and nudged down on the accelerator just a bit, until he remembered Kate's request that he call her mom. He reached for Kate's cell phone and scrolled through her speed dial contacts with one hand on the wheel and one eye on the road. Finding the one labeled, "Mom," he pushed "send."

Three rings later, Laura Andrews answered in her demure way, a light, "Hello, dear—how are you feeling?"

"Hi, Laura," Jethro grunted in reply. "Kate asked me to call you."

"Is she all right?" Laura Andrews answered, concern in her tone.

Jethro slid his eyes sideways at his wife, who was still in the throes of the latest contraction. "Well," he answered, "I doubt that _she_ would classify her current condition as _all__right_, but yes, she's fine," he answered, earning a mild scowl from Kate in response. "She's in labor," he clarified. "Hard labor, from the looks of things," he muttered. "We're on the way to the hospital now," he finished.

Jethro could practically _hear_ the grin spreading across his mother-in-law's face at this news. But to her credit, she remained calm, asking only, "Does she want us to come now, or wait?"

Jethro glanced sideways once again at Kate, who was recovering from the contraction, breathing heavily. "I really don't think it's going to matter one way or the other. Judging by how hard and fast the contractions are, I don't imagine it will be very much longer," he said.

"Tell 'em to come on," Kate muttered breathily.

"She says to go on over there," he relayed.

"All right," Laura answered. "GWU Hospital?"

"Yeah," he replied. "We'll be there in about fifteen minutes, depending on traffic."

OoOoO

Ten minutes later, Kate began to worry that they weren't going to make it to the hospital on time. They were still a good two miles from the hospital, and she had no more than twenty seconds to recover between the contractions that were now lasting well over two minutes apiece. She was about to open her mouth to say as much when she launched into yet another contraction. She sucked in a breath and groaned when she felt the tell-tale gush of her water breaking and saw the wetness spreading through her thin, grey sweatpants. She knew it was about to get a _lot_ worse—only she didn't see how that could conceivably be possible. But almost instantaneously, the already nearly unbearable pain seemed to double, and she involuntarily let out a strangled cry and doubled over. Judging by the lurch of the car, her cry of pain must have scared the hell out of Jethro, but she couldn't open her eyes long enough to look over and see. She wasn't sure she was going to live through this, and suddenly, she felt like a dumbass for not wanting the epidural.

OoOoO

Jethro was growing increasingly irritated with Beltway traffic. They were still a couple of miles from the hospital, and Kate had not spoken in the past ten minutes. It seemed that she was devoting every ounce of her energy to dealing with the pain of her contractions, with nothing left over. He peeled his hands off of the steering wheel every so often to offer a comforting caress of her cheek or a gentle squeeze of her hand, but said nothing, choosing to manage his stress and anxiety by clenching his jaw instead.

He swore mentally as he was cut off yet _again_, and glanced over at Kate, who was apparently launching right into another contraction, the last one having barely just ended. Something caught his eye, and he looked down to see her sweatpants darkening between her legs. He barely had time to register that her water had broken before she let out a guttural cry of such magnitude that he nearly jerked the car into the next lane of traffic. She doubled over in agony and he was shocked to see tears escaping from her tightly clenched eyes. He had never seen her cry as a result of physical pain before, and given her tolerance, couldn't imagine what she must be experiencing. He clenched the wheel more tightly and began weaving through lanes, traffic laws be damned. He was suddenly very glad he hadn't had to go through all this with Shannon. Shannon had gone for the epidural early on, and he had been spared the frustration of watching her suffer through hours of excruciating labor. He had been glad then, and he'd had no idea of what natural labor was like. Seeing Kate like this—_especially_ knowing how much pain she was able to endure, as a general rule—was nearly unbearable. He was inexplicably irritated with his wife for insisting on the natural route. He was torn from his thoughts by the sound of Kate struggling to speak as her contraction began to taper off. "Jethro," she whimpered, "we've got to hurry," she said, tears now coursing down her face. She looked at him in desperation. "I need to push."

Jethro said nothing, only ground his teeth more tightly together, glanced in all his mirrors, and began weaving more quickly than before. He could see the hospital up ahead, and as he blew through the final light just as it turned red, he breathed a sigh of relief that they had made it in one piece.

OoOoO

A few harrowing moments later, Kate was being wheeled onto an elevator. As the nurse reached to push the button for the appropriate floor, Kate decided she had had enough and barked, "You have thirty seconds to get me somewhere to deliver this kid or I start pushing regardless."

Jethro suppressed a grin. _There_ she was—Feisty Kate had finally arrived. He was glad, too, because Weak Kate, Pitiful Kate, and Flustered Kate were not versions he knew well how to deal with. Feisty Kate he could handle.

He was entertained by the reaction of the nurse, who was clearly taken-aback. "Ma'am," she said in a patronizing tone, "you can't push yet. We have to wait until we've got a doctor or midwife present."

"I _am_ a doctor," Kate growled. "And bullshit—what do you think women in the rest of the world do when there's no doctor handy?" She paused as another contraction began, uttered, "Screw it," and Jethro was moderately alarmed as he watched her take a breath, clench her eyes shut, and begin to bear down right in the wheelchair she was slumped into. Entertaining as he found her attitude, he was _not_prepared to play catch with his own baby in an elevator—she was still wearing her sweatpants, for God's sake!

"Kate," he growled warningly.

Stress aside, he completely failed at suppressing a laugh as he watched his wife raise her middle finger at him, without opening her eyes. He slid his eyes in helpless amusement to the indignant nurse as the elevator dinged their arrival to the labor and delivery floor.

Her contraction winding down, Kate, eyes still closed, muttered tiredly, "She's crowned."

The nurse raised her eyebrows as the elevator doors slid open. "Guess we better get on with it, then, huh?" She maneuvered to get behind the wheelchair, but Jethro blocked her.

"No, just get her where she needs to be. I've got it."

The nurse took Jethro in, decided he was serious, and nodded once, succinctly. She moved out of the elevator without looking back, and Jethro followed her, pushing a gasping Kate.

Jethro pushed his wife quickly, watching carefully as the nurse requested a doctor—IMMEDIATELY—without breaking stride, and made her way to a room a few doors down. He walked briskly, following the nurse into a spacious and neat labor, delivery, and recovery room. Kate, who could feel another contraction coming, propelled herself from the wheelchair into the bed, and began pushing again before she was even settled. She shoved her sweatpants off even as she pushed, and the attending nurse's eyes grew large as she saw the crown of the baby's head grow larger. "_Push_," she commanded forcefully. "Push, Kate!" She placed her hands on Kate's abdomen, feeling for the end of the contraction. "Ok, rest," she said soothingly, glancing over her shoulder at the door. Within seconds, a doctor breezed in, and Gibbs caught the relieved look of the nurse as she gave way to him at the foot of the bed.

The unknown doctor slid smoothly into place and began to coach Kate as the next contraction began. Kate looked nothing less than pissed as he commanded her to push, and Jethro watched with some fascination as she bore down with even more force than previously. Before he had time to even register what was happening, he saw his daughter's head emerge.

When asked later, he would not be able to recall the next moments in any specificity. All he knew was that one moment, his wife had succeeded in birthing their daughter's head, and the next, there was a wailing infant in the room. He was never entirely sure that he hadn't simply fainted from the overwhelming emotion of it all, but he was pretty sure that Kate wouldn't have kept that from him. As a result, he had to conclude that he had simply been overwhelmed.

The next words he recalled hearing were, "Congratulations…you have a daughter."

**A/N: OMG…and you guys thought it was all myth. This is, flat-out, for Bamacrush. **


End file.
